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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27195166">Oaths of Loyalty</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nxrdist/pseuds/Nxrdist'>Nxrdist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Last Kingdom (TV), The Warrior Chronicles | The Saxon Stories - Bernard Cornwell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, Plot with Romance, Semi-Canon Compliant, Shieldmaidens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:06:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27195166</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nxrdist/pseuds/Nxrdist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tove chose to surrender rather than be killed, after Sigfried was defeated at Beamfleot, giving herself up to the mercy of the Saxons. Thanks to Finan’s intervention, her life is indeed spared and she is brought into Uhtred’s service. With the sting of defeat fresh on her tongue and her new life fighting for the Saxons secured; Tove is left wondering what tricks the Gods have in store for her next.<br/>(Semi-slow burn with plot. Repost of my previous story by the same name. Takes place mostly Season Three and beyond with some book elements.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Finan (The Last Kingdom)/Original Character(s), Finan (The Last Kingdom)/Original Female Character(s), Sihtric/ Ealhswith (mentioned), Uhtred of Bebbanburg/ Gisela (mentioned), other canon pairs (mentioned)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Preface</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As I went back to work on editing the first few chapters of the original version of this story I felt the need to rework it. So I really condensed what was previously chapters 1-3 turning them into one single chapter. The preface is still relatively the same as is the rest of the story. I hope you enjoy it and would love to hear your feedback.<br/>Here is your customary disclaimer that any recognizabe characters, plots or other material belongs to their rightful owners. I am just a visitor here.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Becoming oath-bound to a Saxon lord was not something Tove had considered could be her fate when she had sailed across the sea. Riches to return to her family in Denmark with, new friends, a husband perhaps, but not this. As shield maiden in the service of a minor Danish Jarl, it did seem beyond all possibility. Fate, however, was a fickle bitch, or it was the Gods simply playing an amusing trick. Whatever it was, it did not matter.</p>
<p>The great army had been defeated before they had even begun the conquest of Britain. All because the Thurgilson brothers had been fools all along. Erik dead at his brother's hand for his love of the Saxon princess. Sigfried was slain by that very same woman. And how could they have missed an impressive West Saxon army marching right up to their door?</p>
<p>So, as the tables had turned horribly against their favor, Tove knew she would have to do something to keep herself alive -if she were to ever return home to Denmark. Surrender had been the only option. Seeing her Lord slain before her eyes by a dark-haired man with fire in his eyes, Tove had dropped her weapons and kneeled in submission.</p>
<p>"I yield," she had murmured softly in English, face turned down toward the blood-drenched ground.</p>
<p>The surviving Danse knew they were beaten and the sounds of battle were beginning to subside. Many of the defeated warriors would flee rather than be taken prisoner to be killed or enslaved. Though she did hope otherwise, death was exactly what she had expected to receive -but these Christians did favor mercy.</p>
<p>A hand was held out to her.</p>
<p>"Rise." He commanded, then asked. "Who do you serve?"</p>
<p>Heaving herself to her feet, choosing not to take the proffered hand, Tove glanced at her fallen Lord with a slight shrug. "No one Lord."</p>
<p>He chuckled. "I am no Lord."</p>
<p>Tove gave a solemn nod as she met the eyes of the dark warrior. He would not decide her fate then.</p>
<p>"What's yer name, lass?"</p>
<p>“Tove Ødgersdottier,” she said. “And you?”</p>
<p>"Finan."</p>
<p>Finan confiscated her weapons and bound her hands before he brought her to his Lord. Uhtred, the man was called. Tove had heard of the Dane-slayer and surveyed him with a guarded expression as she stood before him. The Lord was very tall, well built, and still dressed in his battle finery, which was spattered with the blood of her comrades. At having learned who she was to meet, Tove all but gave up any hope she'd had for being spared. Having been raised by Danes, it seemed doubtful Uhtred would be likely to act in Christian compassion with regard to her fate. Uhtred appraised her with some interest as Finan introduced her and then continued speaking in a more hushed tone.</p>
<p>"I would meet my death with a sword in hand, Lord," Tove interjected in Danish.</p>
<p>Finan paused in whatever he'd been saying as his Lord responded to her. "And what makes you so sure you will meet your death this day?"</p>
<p>"We have been defeated. I would only ask that you would not deny me, Valhalla," she said plainly.</p>
<p>"You did not serve the Lords Erik or Sigfried?" Uhtred asked, scrutinizing her</p>
<p>"I did not. My Lord Njal Thorvinson recently sailed to these shores," she responded. "He... had pledged to Erik Thurgilson."</p>
<p>"And he fell by a Saxon sword?"</p>
<p>Tove gave a slight nod in the direction of Finan. "Your man sent him to the mead halls."</p>
<p>"Lord," Uhtred asserted.</p>
<p>"Lord," Tove conceded.</p>
<p>Uhtred looked thoughtful for a long moment.</p>
<p>"You would give me your oath?" his question was spoken in English.</p>
<p>Tove blinked in surprise. Her gaze flicked between her bound hands and the Lord standing before her. English was not particularly her strong suit though she did manage to struggle along in the language when needed. And though she was sure she understood his words, Tove could not fathom why he would ask it of her.</p>
<p>"My oath Lord?" her brow furrowed.</p>
<p>"Yes, your oath of loyalty to me," he affirmed clearly.</p>
<p>She felt the weighted gaze of Finan, who stood beside his Lord awaiting her answer. It seemed this must have been what he was whispering about. What had prompted him to make the appeal alluded her.</p>
<p>"And you would spare me?"</p>
<p>"I do not slaughter those who pledge their loyalty to me, Tove."</p>
<p>There was a slight amusement in Uhtred's eyes then.</p>
<p>"I would gladly serve you, my Lord."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They stayed at the battle site for two days while the less wounded were dealt with; the rest of the surviving army would return to Winchester. Tove suffered several injuries in the battle, which mostly amounted to some abrasions and bruises though the healer had looked worried at the sight of her black and blue ribs. Despite their concern, she had brushed it off with a declaration she would be well enough to travel. So, on the day of departure, she took to the road with her new Lord.</p>
<p>As they traveled, there was quite a bit of gossip going around, and quickly Tove learned that half the reason for the battle was due to one man: Odda, the Elder who was a West Saxon Alderman now to be tried for treason. A strange thank you, she thought, considering the overwhelming victory his early march had granted the Saxons. The men explained that Odda had marched to Beamfleot against their king’s orders, for which the Alderman would likely die. Tove had frowned at this lackluster explanation and glanced up toward where the king rode at the front. She had yet to see him up close but could pick him out, even among the sea of mail and armor, by the crown atop his head. </p>
<p>On the third day, the vast city walls came into view from behind a hill and Tove was momentarily struck by the place. Its bustling nature was not unlike her home in Denmark, but Winchester had tall stone walls which she was told were remnants of an old people called the Romans -who, like the Danes, invaded England hundreds of years ago though with more success it seemed. There were other glaring differences between this city and her home though walls aside. The most notable being the number of Christian priests who scurried about the streets as they passed through the gate.</p>
<p>In Denmark, Tove did not stand out in a crowd, but she quickly realized that that would not be the case in Winchester. Her war gear was not nearly as splendid as the Lord Uhtred's and nothing compared to that of their king. Still, her leather armor, furs, mail coat, trousers, and weapons drew eyes. People stared at her. Not everyone, though; some made a concerted effort not to catch her eye, but those who did either stared out of fear or apparent disgust. All the eyes made Tove feel deeply uncomfortable, causing her to stick close to those few she did know as Uhtred led the way toward the king's hall.</p>
<p>Alfred’s palace was imposing. The time and craftsmanship that must have gone into constructing the vast stone building was a daunting thought. More often than not, her people chose to build with planks and logs, which while still impressive, was nothing like what she saw there. Once inside, her attention was drawn to the figure standing before what she thought to be a rather plain chair for a king at the far end of the hall. Immediately she knew this unassuming man must be Alfred. Up close, his figure was no more impressive than she had first deemed him to be, but as his sharp, intelligent eyes focused upon her, Tove saw how this otherwise non-remarkable man commanded such power.</p>
<p>“I’m told you are called Tove Ødgersdottier?” Alfred asked.</p>
<p>Instantly Tove’s eyes flicked to Uhtred, who was closest of their group to the king, but he was also looking at Alfred.</p>
<p>“I am…Lord King,” she said.</p>
<p>Alfred hummed in response and fell silent for a moment before continuing his questioning. “And you serve the Lord Uhtred now?”</p>
<p>“I do.”</p>
<p>Grey eyes flicked to Uhtred again for some indication of where this inquest was going. There was no answer to be found in her Lord’s face, though and it frustrated her. He appeared to either not know or was simply not inclined to share anything if he did.</p>
<p>“But formerly, you served a Jarl called Njal…and this Jarl was bound to the now-deceased Erik Thurgilson?”</p>
<p>“Yes, my Lord Njal is also slain at Beamfleot,” Tove said. “Lord Uhtred sees fit to spare me of this fate.”</p>
<p>“So, it seems he did,” said Alfred turning his gaze to Uhtred for the first time. There was something in the look exchanged between the king and her Lord that she did not understand it. “That will be all.”</p>
<p>Alfred’s brief questioning of Tove apparently complete; they were all dismissed, barring Lord Uhtred who the king indicated should stay behind. She could not help but glance over her shoulder as they left the hall. Uhtred stood straight-backed as he waited for the room to be cleared while Alfred looked contemplative if not ill at ease.</p>
<p>Finan led their group from the palace whilst informing them Uhtred had designated they find lodgings at the local alehouse and inn, the Two Cranes. On the way, Tove queried Sihtric on their Lord's stiff behavior, which he explained away as Uhtred likely needing to discuss with Alfred the events leading up to the battle. It was enough to sate her curiosity and they reached the inn before full dark had set in.</p>
<p>Usually, she was not one to tire from travel, but with all that had happened, Tove was worn and so was thankful for the journey's shortness. Upon their arrival, Sihtric and a few others in their party went directly to the bar to order drinks and food. Meanwhile, Tove and Finan found their group a few tables along one side of the tavern’s crowded main room. Finally, able to rest Tove exhaled a sigh as she propped her feet onto the stool beside her own. Finan sat across the table from her with an amused smirk playing at his lips.</p>
<p>“Have ya something to say, Irishman?” Tove quipped.</p>
<p>“Who me?” Finan asked, making a show of looking around to see whom else she could be talking to. “I’ve nothing to say to the mighty shieldmaiden.”</p>
<p>Tove scoffed. ”If Hel came to take ya, you’d sweet-talk her into makin’ ya king in her realm.”</p>
<p>Finan chortled heartily at that, to which Tove could not help but smile slightly herself.</p>
<p>“You flatter me, lass,” Finan said when his laughter died down. “Though, I was only meanin t’ ask if ya were feelin alright after the journey.”</p>
<p>“I am no fragile Saxon maid,” said Tove firmly, but at Finan’s earnest tone, she softened slightly. “I…would thank you for your concern, though.”</p>
<p>“Aye tis no trouble,” Finan said. “And after the way, I saw ya fight on the field I don'na ever think I could mistake ya as one who was fragile. After all…it was my shield ya took in the chest.”</p>
<p>Tove’s eyebrow arched slightly at that.</p>
<p>“Ya looked like a she-devil come to carry me t’ the devil’s gates.” continued Finan with an appreciative grin on his lips. “Couldn’ have been more shocked when ya yielded t’ be honest.”</p>
<p>“That man was Njal.” Tove reminded him in a somewhat solemn tone.</p>
<p>Tove had not been close to Njal, though; he was a decent man. Had she not thought him so, she never would have sailed with him, but Njal was fair, just, and generous. Beside that fact, he was a well-accomplished warrior. She had liked him well enough and was grieved by his death.</p>
<p>“Ahhh…sorry bou’ that lass,” Finan said with a shrug. “He was a hell of a fighter.”</p>
<p>“He was,” Tove agreed, and she was smiling then. “He died well. I will see him in the mead halls of Valhalla.”</p>
<p>Finan only had the chance to nod, and whatever he might have said was cut off by the arrival of their comrades with food and drink. They both took their shares thankfully, and everyone dug in. There was much talk and joking around their table as everyone unwound.</p>
<p>An hour or so into their small feast, Uhtred joined them with an intriguing piece of news. They would leave Winchester in three days’ time, but not for Cookham as the men automatically assumed. Tove, too found herself somewhat perplexed as she had been told Cookham was the steading Lord Uhtred owned in Wessex. Instead, he informed them they would be traveling to Lundene, where Lord Uhtred would be put in charge of that city's protection and fortification. Word was being sent on to all the household warrior’s families to meet them there.</p>
<p>Their journey to Lunden was longer than the one to Winchester, and as they rode, she heard about the fate of Lord Odda. Apparently, the Lord had decided to take his own life rather than allow himself to be executed. It was speculated by some of the men that the Lord had done it as a kindness to his friend, the king. She found it somewhat sad. An opinion that was not shared by some of those in their party.</p>
<p>They explained that Christians believed to take one’s own life was a sin and that the Lord Odda would now be burning in hell for that sin. Like the crime he was to be sentenced for, this made little sense to Tove; it seemed Christians loved to punish themselves.</p>
<p>The topic of their duties and Lundene itself was much more interesting to her. Since arriving in England, she had spent all her time at Beamfleot where Lady Æthelflaed had been held. She knew the Thurgilson brothers had held Lundene briefly and used their advantage there to capture the Lady, but Njal’s ships arrived too late to see that city. It was said that the place thrived with trade and life, even more so than Winchester, despite having switched several times between Saxon and Danish hands. Now that Lundene was back in Saxon hands, particularly Mercian hands, Alfred wished for it to stay that way. So, he had given the city to Lord Uhtred, which was curious to Tove. Considering Mercia was supposedly ruled by the Lord of Mercia, Æthelred. Regardless of that confusion, she was pleased to be going and excited for what awaited them.</p>
<p>An old man called Bishop Erkenwald greeted them at the southern gate when they arrived though he did not look overly pleased to be receiving them. The Bishop welcomed Lord Uhtred begrudgingly and led them into the city. Another man, a priest by his look, was instructed by Erkenwald to show the household warriors to their lodgings. All of which were situated in the Roman quarter of the city near their Lord’s home that looked out onto the river Temes. The house given to Tove was a small stone building along a busy street a few over from Uhtred's. She was content with it being so as she did not need much space, and a larger home would have made her miss her family too much.</p>
<p>During their journey, when Tove was not occupied with getting to know her new comrades, she had had plenty of time to think about her family. Kåre’s child had likely been born some time ago. She had entertained herself, wondering if it was a boy or a girl, but thinking about that only led her to wonder how Inga was doing. And that led to wondering whether her sisters were being helpful, all of which left her with a deep ache in her chest. It was likely that after not returning, she would eventually be presumed dead since she had no way to send word to them.</p>
<p>Instead of allowing those thoughts to seep in, she cleaned the new place as best she could with her restricted movement. There was still some mild pain in her side that made stooping difficult, but she managed to sweep the floors of dust and organize her meager possessions. When all that was complete, the sun had sunk entirely below the horizon. Despite her desire to explore the city, Tove decided she would have an early night and went to sleep after a small meal of bread and hard cheese.</p>
<p>A few weeks after their arrival, Tove was finally allowed to join the men in the training yard. After having been stagnant so long, she was eager to get back to what she did best. It had been enjoyable getting to know the wives of Uhtred and Sihtric, but housework was not for her. She was a shieldmaiden.</p>
<hr/>
<p>For the next two years, they trained, patrolled, and built the defenses despite the peace which had settled on the land because Uhtred insisted the Danes would not stay quiet. Tove, as one of them was, of course, inclined to agree with him. Though Bishop Erkenwald and his priests preached that their God was with them and would smite the Heathen wherever he found them.</p>
<p>Bishop Erkenwald seemed to have developed a particular dislike for Tove since their arrival. While he also harbored a specific distaste for Lord Uhtred, his scorn for her was different. The two Saxons at least had a manageable working relationship. The Bishop looked after the souls and finances of the city while Uhtred kept all that safe -in short, they kept their interactions brief and functional. However, when it came to Tove, it seemed Erkenwald could not keep his opinions to himself. He preached louder and with more zeal about the evils of the Pagan and their fowl ways whenever she happened to be passing by.</p>
<p>“Ya’d think the man would grow hoarse fer all the shouting,” Finan commented.</p>
<p>“Or at least tired,” added Sihtric.</p>
<p>From their table outside the tavern, it was easy to hear the vehement words of the Bishop’s latest sermon: the evils of immoral women.</p>
<p>“Does your God grow hoarse?” Tove asked Finan in faux curiosity.</p>
<p>Finan’s brow creased, puzzled by the question.</p>
<p>“I’m just wondering if your God goes hoarse. Because if he cannot, then I suppose it makes sense the good Bishop is able to carry on,” she said with a subtle shrug. “As I’ve been reliably informed that he speaks the word of your God.”</p>
<p>Sihtric snorted a bit too loudly at that, and Tove smirked. After a brief moment of surprise, Finan burst into laughter as well.</p>
<p>“He does that because he knows you can hear him,” Osferth asserted, with little humor and hardly looked impressed at their childishness.</p>
<p>“Right. I’m sure he does, but how does he know where this…what do they call it?” Sihtric looked briefly to Tove, who snickered.</p>
<p>“Den of iniquity?”</p>
<p>“Yes, that’s it! Thank you, Finan… this den of iniquity is then?” Sihtric asked with a teasing smirk.</p>
<p>Osferth’s ears began to turn a delicate shade of red at that. His reaction was due to the reputation of the place for not only being a tavern but a brothel, as well, as many were. And the former monk knew precisely what was being implied about their dear Bishop.</p>
<p>“Wel-“</p>
<p>“Of course, he knows where it is; he tried to shut the damn place down,” said Uhtred.</p>
<p>He had only just appeared at their table with another round of ale for everyone present.</p>
<p>“You see?” Osferth said.</p>
<p>“Of course, I could not abide by such a thing.”</p>
<p>“No, of course, not Lord! For then who would comfort these lonely men,” Tove jested, causing the men to chortle at the truth of her words.</p>
<p>Summer in a city is different from summers in the vast country. The sewage stinks of rot, and the people stink of stale sweat when the sun beats down on them always. A city’s stench could carry on the wind for miles in summer, but there was a relief for the inhabitants when that wind turned away. It was a relief from that stink which had brought Tove out to the wharf where she sat carving a rune in the silver moonlight. A brief cool breeze lifted her hair slightly to make it dance to its song. She hummed softly to herself. It was a leisurely evening and so peaceful.</p>
<p>Footsteps could be heard on the packed dirt, but she did not start at the intrusion on her calm though she certainly heard it. Finan stood there just a few paces away, watching her. If she had turned her head, Tove would easily have recognized him as his figure was illuminated by the moonlight, which reflected off the water. But Tove did not turn even though she could feel eyes on her. Instead, she stayed focused on the carving she was fashioning from a chip of wood cut from a branch.</p>
<p>Finan could not deny to himself that he had grown to admire her. If he were entirely honest, though, he would admit he had admired her from the moment she came howling toward him, blade drawn and painted with the blood of enemies at Beamfleot. It was his admiration of her that had stilled his sword long enough for her to yield.</p>
<p>He had seen a Goddess of war, a she-devil, or perhaps one of those old Valkyries in her.</p>
<p>“What is that song?” Finan asked suddenly, shattering the quiet calm.</p>
<p>A feigned surprise swept her pale face as she turned to Finan.</p>
<p>“A ballad,” she said.</p>
<p>“Of what?” he inquired further.</p>
<p>He came to sit beside her on the dusty ground then, stretching his legs out in front of him.</p>
<p>“Freya,” a small smile on her lips. “Who protects women in childbirth.”</p>
<p>Finan hummed in understanding before adding in jest. “Is there somethin’ we ought t’ know?”</p>
<p>Tove arched a delicate brow at him.</p>
<p>“You know I have no man Finan,” she responded contritely.</p>
<p>It was not for lack of interest on the men’s part. There were opportunities for her if she had wanted one. A certain Saxon who was also part of the household troops had become quite taken with her, in fact. Dark-haired and blue-eyed, Rypere was a good fighter. They had sparred with each other on a few occasions. After one sparring match, Rypere had even taken her lightly by the hand and asked if she would take a private walk with him that evening.  Tove had declined the invitation politely. It had not entirely deterred him, though, and Rypere’s eyes still occasionally followed her across the yard or the street.</p>
<p>“Aye, I do know tha’,” said Finan with good humor. “But that shouldn’ stop ya havin’ a good time.”</p>
<p>Tove rolled her eyes in a dramatic manner.</p>
<p>“It is for Gisela,” she said simply. “She is with child again -as I’m sure you know. I pray so that Freya may watch over her as she carries the child. Gisela is a good woman.”</p>
<p>“She is,” he agreed.</p>
<p>Uhtred had spoken in hushed tones to him about Gisela during their time with Sverri. On the dark and freezing nights spent curled together in that drafty cabin, they would whisper tales to each other. It distracted from the cold. Uhtred almost always spoke of the beautiful dark-haired Dane -his Gisela.</p>
<p>They lapsed into a companionable silence. Again, Tove began to softly hum and then sing the ballad of Freya. Finan sat lazily beside her, allowing the soothing tones to wash over him like a calming tide.</p>
<p>“You could have been a wealthy poet,” said Finan upon the song’s completion.</p>
<p>“Could I?” Tove asked with a light laugh.</p>
<p>“Indeed. Wealthy and lusted after. Kings would’ ave showered you with gold to stay in their halls.” Though his words were matter of fact, there was a light tone of jest to them.</p>
<p>“You are a flatterer Irishman,” she snickered.</p>
<p>“One of those many talents you heard of, lass,” he responded with a quick smirk and a wink.</p>
<p>Tove grinned to herself.</p>
<p>They had grown into an easy friendship since she joined Uhtred’s crew. All the household warriors had welcomed her as they trusted their Lord explicitly, and thus Finan’s friendship was not the only one she had gained, but they were still the closest. Even more so than she and Sihtric, which was in a way surprising as they shared their Danish heritage, but Tove was somewhat wary of his Saxon wife and her Christianity at first. In truth, she had initially been skeptical of all the Saxons at first. There were those who hated her because she was a Dane, and in all fairness, she could not begrudge them that considering what her people did to their lands. Though the longer she stayed, the less they scorned her, and the less wary she became overall. </p>
<p>She stopped carving the rune. Absently running her thumb over it, clearly deep in thought. The rune was Vegvisir, meaning ‘that which shows the way’ and regarded as a compass. It was a symbol terribly similar to Aegishjalmur, a standard protection rune of her people, which she had meant to carve for Gisela. Though at some point, she must have unconsciously changed her mind.</p>
<p>Had the Gods influenced the decision? Or had she thoughtlessly changed her own mind? It was hard to say. A matter she would ponder later that night when she lay awake chasing sleep.</p>
<p>Pricking her finger with the tip of her knife, Tove smeared the few drops of blood that welled over the symbol. She watched it dry. Finan, who had been looking out across the river, turned back to her then watching the ritual. Once she finished with the blessing, Tove tossed the rune in the air, caught it, and held it out to him.</p>
<p>He paused before taking it. His fingers brushed over her palm, lingering briefly, then he plucked it from her hand to examine it. Finan turned it between his fingers a few times as though fully taking it in would unlock the unfamiliar scratches’ meaning.</p>
<p>“What is it?” Finan asked finally.</p>
<p>“A rune,” said Tove as though it were quite obvious.</p>
<p>“Yes, but what’s its meanin’?” He asked, expression somewhat exasperated by her vague response.</p>
<p>“It is a compass of sorts,” she said. “Keep it. Something tells me the Gods intended it for you.”</p>
<p>His brow arched incredulously. Of course, Finan, like his Irish kin, was a Christian. Though the Irish brand of Christianity was tangled with myths of their ancestors and many still believed the Old Gods did have power.</p>
<p>“They did, hm?” His tone was skeptical.</p>
<p>“I believe they did,” Tove affirmed lightly.</p>
<p>“And what would I be needin’ a compass fer? Ya believe we are t’ go t’ sea?” He was teasing then.</p>
<p>She shook her head.</p>
<p>“But they tell ya t’ give it t’ me?”</p>
<p>“They do not. It is a feeling,” she said simply. “I am no seer.”</p>
<p>Finan nodded. “Perhaps it will help me find my way in battle, eh?”</p>
<p>Tove chuckled. “We are at peace.”</p>
<p>He snorted. “Ya cannot convince me ya believe it will last.”</p>
<p>“No. It will not last,” Tove agreed.</p>
<p>And the peace was not fated to last. A week and a half later, Danes came.</p>
<p>“Danes! Danes, Lord!”</p>
<p>It was mid-morning, and the household warriors were all in the yard engaged in a variety of training exercises when the messenger came. His arrival created a ruckus in the yard, distracting the men and causing them to still their blades. Uhtred broke from his own exercises to meet the harried man in the middle of the yard. Tove glanced at Finan with a slight knowing smirk to which the Irishman snorted and gave a little shake of his head.</p>
<p>“The Danes,” the messenger uttered again through labored breathing.</p>
<p>Uhtred crossed his arms over his chest, his expression a mixture of expectant and bored. The news was no surprise; he had been confident they would come; it was only a matter of time. Danes had lusted after Wessex since they first landed in Britain.</p>
<p>“So, they have. Where?” Uhtred demanded.</p>
<p>“The south- “</p>
<p>“South?”</p>
<p>That was interesting. It meant a direct attack on Wessex, and that was a bold move. Alfred’s burhs fortified that land well.</p>
<p>“Yes, Lord. And the west from Kent,” the messenger added, looking a tad disgruntled at being interrupted now he had caught his breath.</p>
<p>“And you have word from the King?” Uhtred prompted because there was little doubt the messenger had come from Alfred’s court.</p>
<p>“Aye! I do Lord,” he spoke with an air of importance that no doubt irritated Uhtred as it did the others. “He wishes for you to sail and bargain with the Danes who’ve landed in Kent. The king says It is Haesten-“</p>
<p>“That vile piece of weasel shit,” Uhtred snarled.</p>
<p>“Further instruction will come within the fortnight.”</p>
<p>Frustrated, Uhtred waved his hand dismissively. “And a messenger has been sent to the Bishop as well?”</p>
<p>“I’m to go to him next, Lord,” he stated.</p>
<p>“Get on with it then.”</p>
<p>The messenger gave a short bow and was gone. With the man’s departure, Uhtred turned his attention back to the warriors who were still watching the interaction with interest. Some were frowning with apparent concern, while others like Tove were showing small grins of anticipation. It was what they had been preparing for, but at the same time, it was not. The Danes had come, but they were to negotiate not to fight.</p>
<p>Erkenwald was displeased by the messenger’s news and must have come straight to the training yard upon hearing because, by the time they had wrapped up, there he was. A gaggle of several priests trailed behind him when he entered, and his eyes went directly to Lord Uhtred, who gave a mighty sigh at the sight of him. Of course, he was not surprised, only annoyed to have to deal with him. Despite that, Uhtred waved the Bishop over, and they retreated into the house. With the two had gone, the assembled warriors started to peel off, heading toward their afternoon duties.</p>
<p>At Finan’s suggestion, the household fighters lingered. They were to patrol that afternoon, and the Irishman wanted to wait to ensure Uhtred had no special directives. Thankfully, they did not have to wait long for the meeting to be over. Bishop Erkenwald and his priests exited the house not ten minutes after his arrival, and Uhtred followed shortly afterward. An annoyed expression adorned his face, and he said nothing as he gestured towards the stable. No comment was made about their impending mission as they readied the horses, and when they were done, they set off.</p>
<p>For a while, they just rode observing the lands passively for signs of any Danes. There were none. Though their gaze was still vigilant, they settled some and began to banter among themselves.</p>
<p>“Did you know Haesten?” Osferth asked, the question directed at Tove.</p>
<p>She rode to the left of Sihtric while Osferth was slightly ahead of them on the right, so he spoke over his shoulder. A little frown turned down the corners of Tove’s lips. The question was innocent, and Osferth did not notice the slight discomfort it caused her.</p>
<p>“Of course, I knew him,” she said, shifting somewhat in her saddle. “But Njal did not like him much, so we did not associate with his crews often.”</p>
<p>The former monk’s expression showed surprise at her words. His impression seemed to have been that they all got along swimmingly when they were working together, which could not have been further from the truth. Danes were ever quarrelsome even amongst themselves, and squabbles frequently broke out. Such disputes were exacerbated by people like Haesten, who seemed to bring trouble wherever he went, and the men he kept in his service were not wholly of the honorable sort.</p>
<p>“Our Lord hates him,” Sihtric supplied. “Haesten swore an oath to him once…but he broke it.”</p>
<p>Uhtred must have heard their conversation because he also turned in his saddle.</p>
<p>“I saved that piece of gristle’s life, he swore himself to me in thanks, and then he fled,” Uhtred spat. “He is an honorless swine.”</p>
<p>It was Tove’s expression that colored with surprise then.</p>
<p>“And you did not kill him?” She asked.</p>
<p>“Haven’t had the chance, but I will. Someday,” Uhtred answered.</p>
<p>“As you should, Lord. To break an oath is a most grievous affront to the Gods,” agreed Tove.</p>
<p>Uhtred gave her a rueful smile but nodded his own agreement.</p>
<p>“We’ll cut out his lying tongue and string ’im up from a tree, Lord. Let the ravens peck out his eyes,” Finan said jovially.</p>
<p>“But not unless the King allows it,” Osferth said.</p>
<p>“Not unless the King allows it,” Uhtred echoed though his tone was starkly different than Osferth’s matter of fact one.</p>
<p>As the conversation topic turned lighter, time seemed to pass quickly, and before anyone knew it, they were returning for the city. With the horses stabled, most everyone was headed in the direction of the tavern for a few drinks before bed. Instead of following the group, Tove chose to make for her home and bed. She was about to round the corner when a voice called out to her.</p>
<p>“Where’re you goin’?” asked the speaker.</p>
<p>She turned to see Rypere a few paces off with a slightly lopsided grin on his face. Unable to stop herself, Tove exhaled a soft sigh. It was not that she disliked Rypere. He was kind, reasonably handsome, and quite close to her in age at only twenty or so. It was only that the young Dane had no current desire for romance.</p>
<p>“Home,” she said shortly though her tone was polite as ever.</p>
<p>“You’ll not come drink with us tonight? Soon there will not be much time for leisure, I expect,” Rypere pointed out, his eyes flicking over her as they often did.</p>
<p>Tove glanced over Rypere’s shoulder at the rest of the men. Most of them were laughing raucously and telling jokes already as they walked. Sihtric and Osferth were in some debate already. Finan, who lagged a little behind the group, met her gaze with a raised brow.</p>
<p>“I will not,” she said, quickly looking away from Finan to focus back on Rypere. “I’d like to get some rest.”</p>
<p>There was a moment where Rypere looked like he wanted to attempt persuading her, but just as he opened his mouth to do so, he seemed to think better of it. He offered a tight smile instead and nodded.</p>
<p>“I hope you rest well then, Tove,” he said and then was off.</p>
<p>Idly she watched Rypere’s retreating back as he headed off to join the other soldiers. A thought that perhaps this time, he had taken her rejection to heart flitted through her mind. Then her eyes fell again upon Finan as if somehow, he had drawn them to him. A smirk played at his lips; he winked at her. Tove shook her head at the incorrigible Irishman and turned for home.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I reckon it’s time for a few drinks!” Sihtric announced.</p><p>Unsurprisingly the declaration was met with cheers of agreement from many of the men. Though their ride had been uneventful, the sun had still been beating down, and the thought of fresh ale to sate their thirst was tantalizing. Decision made, they moved as a group towards their usual tavern at a leisurely pace. Many chatted amongst themselves, and Finan nearly found himself drawn into a debate between Osferth and Sihtric over a matter of swordcraft, but something else caught his attention. Rypere and Kenward appeared to be squabbling over something. Not wishing to have to break up a fight before the drinking had even begun, Finan broke away from his friends to see what the trouble was. As he grew closer, the Irishman was able to make out their conversation better.</p><p>“Ask her for a drink!”</p><p>“I doubt she would agree,” said Rypere, a slight frown on his face.</p><p>“You’ll not know unless ya’ ask!” Insisted Kenward.</p><p>“Was it not you who said I sounded like an oaf the last time I spoke to her?”</p><p>“True….but perhaps she has forgotten?”</p><p>Rypere gave Kenward a distinctly disbelieving look.</p><p>“Well, perhaps not, but you had just been knocked into the dirt several times.”</p><p>“Such encouragement,” said Rypere in a flat tone.</p><p>This caused him a moment of pause as he then realized what or rather who the two were bickering over. It was Tove. Finan had witnessed the incident of which they spoke.</p><p>It had been the end of an afternoon training session. He and Sihtric had finished their battle at a draw deciding to leave it there for the day. Parting from the half Dane to fetch a drink, he had noticed her. Often Finan found himself noticing her, and just as often, he found himself making excuses for doing so; though, little reason was needed when she was fighting because Tove was quite the fighter. Just as he had turned to look, she pushed in close to her opponent in an effort to knock him off balance, which she succeeded in doing by sweeping a foot out from under him, effectively knocking him on his backside. Her opponent had been Rypere. Finan had later heard from the young man how he had been fallen on his tail several times because of her that day. Though, it had been his close friend Kenward who had drunkenly regaled the story of Rypere’s following rejection. It did not appear to have swayed the Saxon’s interest.</p><p>“Alright, look. A drink is much less than a private stroll!” Kenward reasoned.</p><p>He thought to leave them to their bickering but hesitated, having only then noticed their very topic of conversation retreating down the street. Hadn’t she been nearby to Osferth and Sihtric when they’d exited the stables? It wasn’t unreasonable, supposed Finan, that she could have slipped away in the small crowd, but it did irk him somehow that he hadn’t noticed. Part of him was very much looking forward to her boasting over their drinks of how she’d known the Danes would return, but it appeared that wouldn’t happen -at least not that night.</p><p>“Oi!” Called Finan, causing the two Saxons to look at him. “Ya comin’ er nah?”</p><p>Kenward and Rypere exchanged a look. Rypere seemed to steel himself a moment before patting Kenward on the shoulder and heading off the opposite way down the street. Finan gave Kenward a feigned questioning look as if he hadn’t just been listening in to their conversation.</p><p>“Give him a mo’. He’s off to embarrass himself again, no doubt,” Kenward said with a good-natured chuckle.</p><p>The Irishman gave a short laugh of his own in response. They watched as Rypere called after Tove causing her to pause in her step and turn to face him. From their distance, the words couldn’t be made out, but Finan wished they could. He easily could have told Rypere there was little chance of her agreeing. But it would bring him more pleasure to watch the lad be rejected, though he dared not to examine why that was.</p><p>Finan caught her drifting gaze as she looked away from Rypere towards the slowly retreating crowd. Her expression was composed. Though he thought there was a look of exasperation in her eye as there had been when she had rolled her eyes at his jest about her having a man. Unbidden, his eyebrow raised in mild amusement, but Tove either chose not to react or did not see as her eyes snapped back to Rypere, who must have been speaking. She said something else to him, and a moment later, Rypere was turning back towards them looking somewhat deflated.</p><p>“Damn,” whispered Kenward.</p><p>But Finan wasn’t paying him any attention. His eyes were still on Tove. She was watching Rypere’s retreat, a thoughtful look on her face which caused his brow to rise further. Again, her eyes seemed to be almost as drawn to him as his were to her, for her gaze shifted to meet his. The distance between them was too much to be sure, but he swore the corners of her lips quirked in a ghost of a smile. Briefly, he flicked his gaze toward Rypere and then back to her, throwing her a thoughtless wink and a smirk. There certainly was a smile then as Tove gave a slight shake of her head and turned away.</p><p>“Let’s be goin’,” Finan said absently.</p><p>“Yea’ I could definitely use that drink now,” Rypere huffed as he drew level with them.</p><p>The three of them hurried along to catch up with the rest of their party, who were almost at the tavern. Once inside, they took places at one of the long tables, and men began calling out their orders to the barmaids who came to serve them. Finan seated himself between Sihtric and Osferth in an effort to put a stop to their still raging debate, though it did little good. Across from them, Rypere and Kenward took seats with some of the others.</p><p>“I thought for sure-“</p><p>“You did not, Ken,” said Rypere throwing his friend a look of discontent. “You’ve been the one ribbing me for the whole thing in the first place.”</p><p>“Ribbing for what?” Sihtric butted in, having soundly forgotten the debate at the prospect of having someone to tease.</p><p>“His crush on Lady Tove,” supplied Kenward earning a swift elbow to the ribs by Rypere. “What! It’s true.”</p><p>Finan snorted. “I wouldn’ let her ‘ear you callin’ her tha’.”</p><p>Kenward’s expression warped in confusion.</p><p>“Set Beocca straight on that account when first she met him,” chuckled Osferth.</p><p>“Besides, Lady could not describe a woman like that besides,” said Rypere.</p><p>Osferth exchanged glances with Kenward, who merely shrugged. They were interrupted momentarily as the barmaids made their round setting down drinks. All thanked them kindly and took their glasses without hesitation. Rypere nearly downed his whole pint in one go.</p><p>“Don’t feel too badly,” said Sihtric with a consoling smile. “I highly doubt a Saxon could handle her anyhow.”</p><p>“What is that to mean?” Rypere almost snapped in response, setting his pint down hard on the table.</p><p>“You’ve said, haven’t you? She is too fierce! No Danish shield maiden could stand to be confined to a farm somewhere while her husband went off to fight.”</p><p>Rypere frowned then as if he hadn’t thought of that.</p><p>“And how would you know?” Kenward challenged thinking to aid his friend.</p><p>Sihtric did not look impressed though; still, he looked to his friends for support as well. “Finan?”</p><p>“What? I haven’t any experience with Danish shield maidens.”</p><p>Finan had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going and felt keen to be left out of it. But no such luck.</p><p>“Were you not the first of us who Tove befriended?” Osferth queried rhetorically.</p><p>“I wouldn’ call knockin’ the wind an’ crackin’ a rib befriendin’ baby monk,” Finan quipped.</p><p>Sihtric turned on him, then scoffing loudly past his drink. “And still, I would not doubt her to come to you with any problem.”</p><p>“Any?” Finan snorted, feebly attempting to redirect the conversation again.</p><p>“Alright, perhaps after Ealhswith or Gisela,” Sihtric conceded with a sigh. “Tis’ not the point, though.”</p><p>Thankfully, Rypere, who had been quiet until then, seemed to have been struck with a brilliant idea.</p><p>“Would you put in a word for me?” he asked Finan eagerly.</p><p>The Irishman paused in bringing his pint to his mouth to study the Saxon. It made him wonder then; did he even have sway over what Tove thought? Perhaps, though, he doubted it. The Dane was headstrong once her mind was set. It had been that reason he was quite sure Rypere would not sway her to join them that night. This trait was one of the first he learned of her as they grew to become friends. That led to the more pressing question, though, if he could sway her mind on Rypere, would he?</p><p>Immediately his gut gave him a firm answer. No. He certainly would do no such thing. Though it was not for any reason, he was willing to think on. Finan did his best to ignore any thought he might have towards the young woman, which crossed the line of friendly or brotherly -and the reason he was unwilling to put in any such word for Rypere was anything but.</p><p>“Perhaps…if it’s brought up,” Finan said, finally placing his pint back on the table. “Though, I do na’ think her interested in a man at any rate.”</p><p>Before any could but in with further questioning, Finan turned his attention to Sihtric, effortlessly engaging him about the debate he and Osferth had previously been enthralled with. Though Finan did not see it, Rypere looked at him with a somewhat puzzled expression for a moment before he was able to accept the topic as closed.</p>
<hr/><p>Cruising down the Temes was leisurely in comparison to a sea voyage. No salty spray assaulted their faces, nor was the ship rocked by angry waves sent by the Goddess Rán. There was some rowing to be done when the winds turned against them, but for most of the journey, it was calm.</p><p>They had been given several orders for the negotiations that would take place, chief of which was payment for the Danes to leave Wessex. So, Uhtred brought three ships on the mission as one would be carrying the ransom and was also to be surrendered to the Danes. The first was Seolferwulf, Lord Uhtred’s craft, and she beautiful piece of work made by Frisian shipwrights the previous spring when they arrived at Lunden. It was made of oak, long-keeled, wide-beamed, and high prowed. Second was the Kenelm, and she was a fair ship as well but was named for some martyred Christian Saint. The final ship was called Dragon-voyager, which had been built by and captured from the Danes some time ago. Dragon-voyager carried the gold that would be paid to Haesten for his agreement to leave.</p><p>As they slid along the bank, Uhtred stood on the steering platform with Finan and the two priests. The presence of the two priests was part of the second condition for a peaceful resolution. Haesten and his Danes would have to accept Alfred’s Christian missionaries. Third would be the traditional demand for hostages who would stay under the care of a Saxon Lord until such time that the Danes were ready to sail. In theory, the whole trouble was simply dealt with so long as the Danes were of a mind to bargain.</p><p>Once Seolferwulf was close enough, a few men hopped ashore to drag her fully up onto the bank between two Danish ships that were also grounded there. The other two ships stayed floating nearby as Uhtred and the household warriors disembarked onto the shore where they were met by their host.</p><p>Before them stood, Haesten arms spread wide in greeting with a jovial expression on his face. He was a stocky man with fair hair, a plaited beard and, a deceptively trusting face. Haesten was dressed finely with silver clasps in his beard, many arm rings, and his thick sword belt studded with gold. It appeared since scuttling off from the fight at Beamfleot -like the coward he was- he had done well for himself.</p><p>“My Lord Uhtred! I am overjoyed to see you,” he said, smiling broadly at their group. “My old valued friend.”</p><p>“Jarl Haesten,” Uhtred responded in greeting, though his expression was guarded.</p><p>“I had hoped Alfred would send you,” Haesten said as he held out his hand.</p><p>Uhtred shook it. “If Alfred had not ordered we come in peace, I would have separated your head from your shoulder by now.”</p><p>“You bark a lot,” Haesten laughed loudly, causing a few of the nearby men to join in. “But you know what they say, the louder the bark, the weaker the bite.”</p><p>Though the warriors had immediately followed Uhtred on to the beach, it had taken a moment for the priests to gather their things and join them. Now that they had, Haesten’s eyes shifted from Uhtred to the newcomers with an arched brow clearly questioning their presence. Uhtred seemed to deliberately ignore the look, though, and pressed on. He explained that yes, they came in peace and with a message from Alfred. Though Haesten did not seem to pay all that much attention to Uhtred’s words, he waved a hand dismissively, still surveying those assembled before him, having become bored with the priests apparently.</p><p>“I know why you are here,” Haesten said vaguely. “You will accompany me to my encampment, and we may speak and eat there.”</p><p>Uhtred nodded his assent and selected Finan, Tove, and one other warrior to accompany him in addition to the two priests. Their boots splashed through marshy puddles as they made their way onto the waste that was Scaepege. It was not the location of Haesten’s proper stronghold, but it had been crudely fortified prior to their arrival. The perimeter was marked with a feeble wall constructed from thorn brush, which had been taken from the surrounding landscape and a slight ditch. Within that negligible bulwark were two fair-sized tents that had been erected out of sailcloth. </p><p>At the entrance of the tent nearest, Tove came to a halt. She had no wish to be an observer of this negotiation. Paying one’s enemies to leave instead of fighting did not sit right with her, but it appeared to be the Saxon way even if Uhtred was clearly displeased with it as well. It was the king’s will, though, so he would see it done. She understood. He was sworn to Alfred as she was to him. It was still no less distasteful to see her Lord made to come before Haesten as a supplicant.</p><p>When there was no call from Lord Uhtred to join them, she wondered if he knew her feelings on the matter. Regardless it appeared, for the time being, she was free to survey the camp -if one would call it that at all- though there was not much to see. The only part that was not open for viewing was the interior of the two tents, but their contents were deduced quickly enough. One, which she currently stood at the entrance of, was for eating and storage while the other was likely for sleeping. Haesten would not be staying on Scaepege long that much was clear. It was nothing but a safe location a short way from the actual fort to hold this negotiation. The company would return there once their business was concluded, though, whether he would hold up whatever his end of the deal was Tove felt dubiously about.</p><p>Knowing that the discussion may take some time, Tove allowed herself to wander from the tent entrance. Briefly, the thought occurred to her, as she strode away, that perhaps Uhtred had not intended for her to join them inside during the negotiation at all. But to what end? To gain some knowledge of Haesten’s strength? There was not much to be learned in this desolate place though the thought brought her to something that had always intrigued her about Lord Uhtred. He had a great love for the Danes -well, not Hasten. So why did he fight them?</p><p>Her musings were interrupted then by a cumbersome hand on her shoulder. Suddenly alert, Tove grabbed the wrist of her would-be assailant and turned apace to face them, not faltering in her grip. At the sight of him, Tove gave a moment of pause as recognition flickered in her eyes. Before her stood a man of stout build. His beard was cropped short, as was his hair around the sides and back though a long braid sprouted from the back of his head. Familiar dark bronze eyes blinked back at her with something akin to mild shock reflecting in their depth.</p><p>“Well…I was sent to stop ya wandering,” he began. “Though, I see now that might be a difficult task.”</p><p>“Halvar,” Tove responded, dropping his wrist in recognition. “You are here.”</p><p>“T’would seem so,” Halvar replied, a mild grin spreading across his face.</p><p>Halvar gave her a measured look, pausing to take in her appearance. She was near just as he remembered her. They stood near on eye level to each other though it was by no remarkable feat of height on her part as Halvar had always been relatively short. Her long hair was braided to the sides of her head and pulled back in her usual fashion. Though, strangely he thought, she did not gaze upon him with the typical openness of a friend as he recalled when they had last met. And then Tove gave a short cough breaking their brief eye contact as she looked away.</p><p>“Forgive me,” he said quickly. “I am only surprised to see you -alive.”</p><p>Tove hummed in acknowledgment of his obvious question but offered no explanation.</p><p>“Last I heard of Kåre, he told me you sailed with Njal alongside the Thurgilsons,” Halvar frowned. “I was aggrieved to hear of their defeat. Even more so when you did not return.”</p><p>Pursing her lips, Tove inhaled deeply. She did not meet his eyes as she considered what she could possibly say. It had been impossible to send word to her brother of her fate. Even if she had known how to write letters, it would have been little help as her brother could not have read them. Her only option would have been a messenger, but that was out of the question.</p><p>“With whom do you sail now?” pressed Halvar, incited to interest by her silence.</p><p>“I do not,” Tove finally replied, her tone flat.</p><p>Her brother’s friend furrowed his brow in apparent confusion. “What do ya mean?”</p><p>“I have been in the Saxon city of Lunden,” she said simply.</p><p>“And why would ya be there? We thought you dead.”</p><p>Halvar’s expression darkened considerably at this revelation. For her part, Tove was not at all surprised. When she had sworn herself to Uhtred, she knew it was quite likely many of her family and friends would believe her fallen at Beamfleot.</p><p>Tove could not meet his gaze when she spoke again. “There was little choice aside from death in the face of our defeat. Njal was slain. Many of the boats were fired.” A pregnant pause hung between them as Halvar waited for her to elaborate further. “In fact, I had thought to be drinking in the mead halls of Valhalla when the battle turned. However, it appears it was not my fate.”</p><p>“Aye, I see that,” Halvar said ambiguously.</p><p>“A Saxon Lord spared my life.”</p><p>Silence dragged on for some length of time. The span it took for Halvar to digest the information caused Tove some discomfort as she shifted coltishly on the spot. Finally, the dark-haired Dane raised a hand as if to grasp her shoulder again, but it dropped not halfway to its destination.</p><p>“The Dane-slayer.”</p><p>“Uhtred,” Tove corrected an effete bite to her tone.</p><p>Halvar’s disposition soured at her feeble defense of her Lord. “And have you killed many Danes in his name?”</p><p>Raising her chin, Tove’s eyes swirled with steel. “Lord Uhtred has not asked it of me.”</p><p>“He will be soon,” Halvar spat. “You are not one of them.”</p><p>Turning his back to her, he stalked away.</p><p>The altercation with Halvar left Tove feeling discontented, which thankfully she was not able to dwell upon for too long in that moment. When Uhtred exited the tent, he found Tove easily waving his hand to indicate she should join them. She did so without delay. Then, the hostages exchanged, and metal paid they set off back to Lunden.</p><p>Tove spoke little on the voyage back to the city. When she was not rowing, her mind so effortlessly drifted to the exchange with Halvar, and her expression turned sullen. Several times the men made attempts to draw her into a conversation, but she mostly stayed ardently silent. After a particularly doltish joke from Sihtric, which Tove snapped quite shrewdly at him for, none made any further attempt to engage her. Though she was not unaware of the occasional look cast her way by Uhtred or the other household warriors.</p><p>Arriving back in Lunden was a blessing for Tove’s troubled mind. She found herself filled with a sense of relief as the sloping bank of the Temes gave way to the walls of that city. There she had a home and a quiet place to think. Something that had been sorely lacking on the ship filled with men.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you enjoyed this chapter don’t forget to leave a review. Truly they give me life :)<br/>For anyone who’s wondering about Tove’s brother, don’t worry he'll finally be making an appearance next chapter</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At Haesten’s return there was a mixture of celebration and grumbling. Some of the assembled Jarls were more than pleased to have won riches without having to sacrifice any of their men -a thing they were quite wont to avoid whenever possible. However, there were still those who were rather sullen. One such Jarl, Ketill Frodeson, tall and broad of chest with long dark hair was the loudest of the dissenters of the arrangement.</p><p>“I have sailed many leagues for my sword to taste Saxon blood! And you -<em>swine</em>- have robbed me,” exclaimed Ketill before turning to the gathered men. “How are we to conquer this land with leader like Haesten? Haesten the <em>spineless</em>. Haesten the <strong><em>lazy</em></strong>.”</p><p>There was silence in the hall as Ketill stormed out, the doors slamming soundly behind him. Chatter rose again with his exit. Some of the assembled were angered by the derogatory words and raucous exit while others who knew better of the man’s character were not surprised. It was the latter who reminded their fellows of the moniker Ketill had earned; Ketill the Eager.</p><p>Ketill did not simply hunger for gold and silver. Of course, all men wished to be rich but there was more to be won than just that for a man like him. Men like Ketill sought battle -bloody, savage, and ruinous- of the kind that would bring reputation. The highest accolades for any Viking were won with reputation. For those were the ones who the great poets sang their songs about. Those who had it were the men that others followed. And so there would be no convincing Ketill to stay.</p><p>That same day Ketill rallied his men and instructed them to ready the ships for them to leave on the morrow. There was not much for them to do other than the gathering of provisions and checking the ships readiness. All three ships were of Danish make with long oak timbers high prowed and adorned with different beast heads. When the sun rose the next morning, they were ready to set sail. The ships had been recaulked, ropes stored, planks inspected, and oars waxed with great efficiency. Their only minor delay was a wasted solicitation from Haesten entreating Ketill to reconsider. Dismissing him out of hand, Ketill hopped aboard his ship and they sailed.</p><p>The sum of their company was one hundred and twenty men between three ships for an even crew of forty per vessel. Once they were at sea Ketill shared his planned destination with the men at oars with a great level of fervor. Harald Bloodhair landed some ways to the south of them and was spreading word of his intent to form a Great Army who would harry and vanquish the King Alfred in Wessex. It was even said that he had a witch as part of his force; a seer called Skade. She was even rumored to be such a great beauty that to look upon her was to want her though she had eyes for no other than Bloodhair himself. Harald had been drawing forces all winter for his plotted assault. With his abandonment of Haesten it only made sense for Ketill to join with Harald.</p><p> Exhilaration spread through the three ships like wildfire; though, there was one man among the crew whose gladness was unmatched. A stocky axe man pulled his oar with a renewed vehemency, Halvar Ulfson. Sharing the bench with Halvar was another Dane called Geir who Halvar knew in passing. Noting the grin on Halvar’s bearded face, Geir nudged the dark-haired man.</p><p>“Do you think the witch is as beautiful as they say?” Geir asked.</p><p>Halvar scoffed. “I care not for a witch who may or may not speak for the Gods.”</p><p>Dismayed, Geir’s expression faltered a moment. “They say her hair shines with their light…”</p><p>“Perhaps Harald will let you hump her,” Halvar snickered.</p><p>Geir rolled his eyes. “Then what is that look on your face?”</p><p>“Aside the prospect of glory in battle? Riches to take home to Denmark?” Halvar’s tone was incredulous.</p><p>Geir prompted Halvar to continue with a nod.</p><p>“My brother. Not by blood, but of battle… He sailed to meet Harald when I joined Ketill in Frisia.”</p><p>The look on Geir’s face revealed his understanding as he glanced at the man seated on his other side.</p><p>After a few days, they came into sight of Harald Bloodhair’s camps when the sun was highest in the sky. Sighting them, centuries sent messengers to the base to fetch their Jarls and by the time Ketill’s vessels reached the shallows, a party was there to meet them. Harald Bloodhair, barrel-chested, long-haired, and bearded was waiting at the forefront. So, they disembarked; Ketill was the first to make land as the crews ran the ships aground. Harald surveyed them until Ketill came to his side.</p><p>“You have abandoned Haesten then?” Harald asked with a broad grin.</p><p>“I will not speak of that milksop,” Ketill bit out.</p><p>“Peace my friend! I will not question you,” Harald responded in an effort to quell him. “Come drink with me. We have so much to speak on!”</p><p>Ketill gave an affirmative nod and his posture relaxed some. Bloodhair clapped him hard on the shoulder grinning again. Then he turned to Ketill’s men.</p><p>“You are most welcome my friends! The Gods smile on your coming. We are glad to welcome you to our army! Please eat and drink you must be weary.”</p><p>The warriors cheered heartily. Bloodhair put an arm around the slightly shorter man and led him away to his tent. Taking it as their dismissal the men dispersed themselves to make camps of their own and rest after having rowed long days to reach the place. Halvar followed along with some others to an open area where they could pitch themselves tents to sleep under. To the practiced Vikings it was a simple task which was finished with haste being that their desire for fresh food and ale was paramount.</p><p>Food was shared freely with the newcomers and Halvar talked and ate with several old friends whom he had not known would be there. With the afternoon waning into evening Halvar began to wonder how he had not yet come across the one individual whom he had been certain to find. He had not seen his best friend in months and sorely regretted parting with him in Frisia. Finally, just as the evening fires were being lit Halvar came across someone who pointed him in the direction that Kåre Ødgerson had last been seen.</p><p>Dark fell before Halvar reached the other side of the encampment to find Kåre gnawing a chicken thigh in front of a fire. From his vantage Halvar could only see him in profile, but the slight upturn nose and sleek cornsilk blonde hair were unmistakable. Grinning guilefully to himself, Halvar ducked behind a barrel of ale and scooped up a small stone from the ground. In one quick smooth motion, he peaked up over the barrel, lobbed the rock at Kåre’s turned back and ducked back behind the barrel. There followed the sound of a brief scuffle and a few shouted words of anger.</p><p>“Hey! It wasn’t me alright?! It came from over there,” said one man.</p><p>“You had better not be having a laugh,” Kåre responded irritably.</p><p>Halvar crouched waiting until Kåre was about to come around the side of the barrel to stand. Startled Kåre’s hand went to the hilt of the sword that hung at his waist. Nevertheless, it only took a moment for him to recognize his friend and in doing so he immediately swung a punch at Halvar’s shoulder.</p><p>“What in the hel did you do that for!” he exclaimed.</p><p>“Keeping you on your toes?” Halvar offered with a laugh.</p><p>Kåre swept forward and embraced his best friend in a crushing hug. “You lousy shit.”</p><p>“Aw he missed me,” Halvar called over Kåre’s shoulder at his companions who sat by the fire chuckling.</p><p>“Come and eat,” Kåre offered.</p><p>“As long as you’ve got ale.”</p><p>“Of course!”</p><p>And Kåre guided him over to the fire where he sat with a couple of companions. The two men were familiar to Halvar and he greeted them warmly. Erik and Arne had been part of Kåre’s crew when Halvar parted from them in Frisia to sail with Ketill and meet Haesten. Arne offered Halvar a piece of chicken with hard bread and a cup of ale which he accepted with thanks even though he had eaten only hours ago.</p><p>“What news of the Jarl Haesten?” Kåre asked eyes alight with humor.</p><p>Halvar huffed and moved to bump his shoulder hard against his friend’s. “You know what news. Seeing as I am here not with him.”</p><p>“Oh, I know,” said Kåre a purposeful smirk spreading across his face. “I would hear you say it though. It is quite a thing -to so often be right.”</p><p>“Alright you damn bastard,” Halvar rolled his eyes. “He treated with the Saxon dogs. Gold and <em>priests</em> in exchange for peace…for a time at least.”</p><p>The laugh Kåre gave at his friend’s admittance was loud enough that Erik and Arne looked up briefly from their own conversation in question. Kåre waved them off with ease. A frown marred Halvar’s face and he stared down into the dirt. Eventually Kåre subsided and patted his companion consolingly on the back.</p><p>“Perhaps the gold I would have taken,” Kåre admitted. “Priests? No, never.”</p><p>“An affront to the Gods,” supplied Halvar moodily.</p><p>“Did I not tell you to stay when Ketill made his intentions to join Haesten clear? He is a pitiful and gutless coward. The way he abandoned the Thurgilsons at Beamfleot…” An expression of rage flitted across Kåre’s face before he composed himself. “But who was I to stop you. You are your own man.”</p><p>Halvar sighed raising his eyes to meet Kåre with an exasperated look. Cautiously, the elder of the two considered how or whether he ought to tell his fellow of the full encounter that had taken place prior to their abandoning Haesten. Surely, he ought to on account that they could likely be facing the Dane-slayer in battle at some point. The momentary flash of temper he had just seen gave Halvar pause though.</p><p>“You did tell me,” he assented, brightening a bit he continued. “And I told you then, perhaps I needed a break from looking at your ugly mug every day. You scare away all the women.”</p><p>Kåre snorted indignantly. “My friend, I think you are mistaken! Women love me.”</p><p>“Do they?” Halvar’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead as he spoke. “Is that why your lip was bloodied when we departed home? Igna has finally grown wise and tossed you out?”</p><p>Shaking his head Kåre chuckled. “She would never do such a thing.”</p><p>“Aye, she would not,” granted Halvar. “Ridiculous, truly, but she loves you far too much.”</p><p>“And I her.” Kåre’s expression softened.</p><p>Both men lapsed into a companionable silence and were contented to drink from their cups for a time. Kåre watched Halvar picking at his chicken. It seemed to him that his friend was troubled by something which he was reticent to speak on. In the end Kåre broke the peace.</p><p>“What bothers you?” He asked.</p><p>“At the negotiations…I thought I saw a ghost,” Halvar said grimly.</p><hr/><p>Finan stared unseeing at the seat across from him which was usually occupied by Tove. After her ill-tempered mood during their journey back he had thought it best to give her some time, though a night in her own bed appeared to have cured that. She had turned up the following day to train with a smile and her normal relaxed demeanor. He assumed all that had caused her previous temperamental behavior was travel weariness. An understandable thing which had been easily brushed aside by all.</p><p>Thinking her back to her usual self, Finan had expected to see her at the tavern that evening as they often congregated there when the days’ work was done. When Tove did not make an appearance that night or any of the four nights after, he truly started to suspect something was wrong. Of course, it was not unlike her to take time to herself occasionally, but he had hardly seen her outside of training and patrol since their return -and that was decidedly not normal. Even so, she gave no outward indication that anything was amiss other than her newfound aversion to anything sociable. Still, Finan suspected and he was not the only one.</p><p>Just the previous evening Uhtred had commented upon her elusiveness mentioning also that Tove had not visited Gisela since their return. The eyes of Sihtric and Osferth had immediately gone to Finan as if he would surely know the reason, but all he could offer them was a shrug. Though no further comment was made on the issue he decided then that if she did not come the next night, he would seek her out.</p><p>“‘Ave ye seen Tove since ye came in from patrol?” Finan looked up, directing his question at Osferth.</p><p>The former monk paused midbite thoughtfully. “Now you mention it, I can’t say I have.”</p><p>Finan exchanged a significant look with Sihtric. He had confided in the half-Dane his plan during training that day. Sihtric had noted that perhaps he was overreacting but conceded that if she did not show then it would not be unreasonable to check on her. Finishing his bite, Osferth glanced between the two a hint of his confusion touching his expression.</p><p>“I’m sure she’s fine,” Osferth added when no explanation was forthcoming. “She probably just wanted a quiet evening.”</p><p>“Another one?” Finan challenged.</p><p>Osferth shrugged noncommittally. “Women do strange things at times do they not?”</p><p>The Irishman sighed. “I’m goin’ to check.”</p><p>Neither of his companions made any protest as Finan got to his feet and made for the exit. Once he had left Osferth turned his attention back to Sihtric who did not look at all bothered by Finan’s behavior.</p><p>“Is Finan well?”</p><p>Sihtric snorted. “I am beginning to think our Irishman feels someway about her.”</p><p>Osferth furrowed his brow but did not question the assertion. Shortly their conversation turned to other topics as they waited for Uhtred to arrive. Their Lord had taken to joining them later in the evenings after the children had gone to sleep.</p><p>Finding her turned out to be more of a task than Finan had anticipated. He had gone directly to her home where he knocked on the door for several minutes before a neighbor tartly informed him, she was not there. With that hope dashed, he sought out the few places he knew she frequented for solitude. Checking first at the wharf where she had given him the rune a month before, then the old Roman ramparts where he’d seen her staring out into the countryside, and on his last limb the stables as occasionally she visited the horses.</p><p>Frustration mounting, Finan exhaled a deep sigh and kicked the dusty stable floor. A quiet cough from the doors caught his attention and he looked up. The stable hand stood at the threshold carrying a pail of oats looking a tad surprised to see him there.</p><p>“Evening,” said the young man.</p><p>Finan observed the lad for a moment. It was likely the boy had been there all day and was just finishing his evening chores. If Tove had been to the stable since returning from patrol with Osferth and the others he would’ve probably seen her.</p><p>“Has a woman been here?” Finan asked abruptly.</p><p>Blinking, the stable boy shook his head.</p><p>“Blonde, fair height, ...pretty face?” He paused.</p><p>Again, the young man shook his head looking less surprised and more confused. “No one like that.”</p><p>“You’d know her,” Finan pressed, annoyance rising. “The Danish shield maiden.”</p><p>He flushed. “Ohh, she came in with the last patrol...but her stallion isn’t in his stall. Coulda gone back out?”</p><p>Thanking the boy shortly, Finan rushed past him in the direction of his horse Gúthwine’s stall and quickly set about tacking up the steed. When he had finished, he led Gúthwine from the stall, past the stable boy who’d since resumed his chores, and out into the street. Swinging himself onto the stallion’s back, Finan steered the beast towards the gate only stopping briefly there to question the guards. They were more helpful than the stable boy and were able to indicate to Finan the small wood Tove had headed towards.</p><p>He rode hard and reached the trees just as twilight was approaching. The wood was not thick, but still he couldn’t see far into the trees with the fading daylight. Up to that point Finan had been merely frustrated by his search for her, but as Gúthwine trotted along the edge of the wood he wondered what brought her there in the first place. Wandering the woods at night wasn’t particularly safe even if one knew them well, though with the light fading there was hardly time to dwell on the matter. So, without any further delay, he dismounted and tied his reigns to a nearby tree. Gúthwine gave a snort as he watched Finan work. Upon completing his task Finan patted the stallion’s shoulder reassuringly.</p><p>“I’ll be back. Got to fetch our friends,” he murmured.</p><p>Twilight descended into dusk and Finan started to wish he’d thought to bring a torch. It was too late for that though as he’d already walked for almost ten minutes into the trees. Silently he continued on for another five or so minutes until he clearly heard the sound of slow-moving water over rocks. Having no other apparent direction, he followed the sound to locate the flowing spring. As he came to the edge of the bank Finan saw a flicker of firelight from the corner of his eye and turned towards it. From his vantage point, it appeared to be a little less than two hundred meters off.</p><p>Full night descended on the wood as Finan made his way toward the beacon of light. Tove’s horse -Alvis- startled as he approached, pawing at the ground, and watching him closely. However, the muffled sound of Alvis’s hooves did not cause Tove to stir. Instead she sat shoulders slouched apparently staring deeply into the flames.</p><p>Finan purposefully made his steps louder as he approached her from behind. “Tove?”</p><p>Genuine shock flared in her tone as Tove whipped around to face him. “Finan!”</p><p>His step wavered. “Fancy seein’ you here.”</p><p>“What are you <em>doing</em> here?” Her brow creased, a hint of accusation in her words.</p><p>“Oh ya know,” Finan began again pacing toward her coming to a stop within arm’s length of where she sat. “Thought ta take an evenin’ stroll, perhaps even happen upon one of the fairfolk.”  </p><p>Tove snorted in consternation. With their closer proximity the frustration in her eyes was plainer to see, Finan offered her a placating smile. When she did not soften right away, he sighed raising his hands in supplication.</p><p>“Perhaps na’, it would be a sight though, wouldn’t it?”</p><p>Tove made no dissent as Finan lowered himself onto the ground next to her. Finally, after a moment of weighty silence where she stared at him enigmatically, Tove nodded her assent and turned back to the fire.</p><p>“And what would you venture to ask of them?” she asked softly. Her eyes still fixed upon the flickering flame.</p><p>Humming as he feigned deep thought, Finan pursed his lips, though when he spoke none of the humor of his performance tinged his words.</p><p>“I would ask to know what troubles my dear friend.”</p><p>Instantly her head snapped up and she fixed him with a scathing look. “Could you not simply ask? To risk guileful nature of the fae would be a folly.”</p><p>“Difficult to manage when they are so distant.” His wry smile had withered measurably under her gaze.</p><p>Tove’s cheeks flushed at Finan’s words though it was mostly hidden by the glare of the flame. Biting the inside of her lip she looked away again suddenly feeling quite trapped by his intense mahogany eyes. Had she not averted her eyes, she surely would have told him every thought she’d had over the past several days and the knowledge of that unsettled her further.</p><p>Most of her thinking revolved around Halvar, his disgust when he named Uhtred the Dane-slayer, and the flush of anger when she had defended him; all of which left a bitter taste in her mouth which was determined to linger. She’d had no concern in the moment over the fact it was an apt title -despite Uhtred’s disdain for it- only that her Lord had been insulted. Uhtred was her oath lord even if he fought the Danes. Halvar being honorable as she thought he was should understand that. But he didn’t seem to.</p><p>Altercation with Halvar aside, Tove could not help but agonize over what had also not been said or rather asked. She had not even thought to ask after her twin and the guilt of that weighed on her consciousness like led. Halvar told her they all thought her dead. Kåre would still think it. Yet, she had not spared the moment to ask after his health -or even that of his child. What kind of person did that make her?</p><p>From his place beside her Finan eyed what he could see of her partially obscured face with interest. When she turned away a few locks of hair had fallen from behind her ear and effectively hid most of her profile from his view. If finding her far out in the wood were not enough proof, he had been correct in his assumption that something was off, her reaction to his query was. The confirmation was bittersweet though as it shed no light on the source of her dismay.</p><p>Feeling doubtful that she would speak again without his prompting, Finan took a moment to search for a lighter topic of conversation.</p><p>“Uhtred mentioned Gisela had asked after you.”</p><p>Patiently, he waited for her to respond noting the slight downward tilt of her lips.</p><p>Finally, she did and it was but a whisper. “She should be focusing on the baby.”</p><p>“Perhaps I am not the only one who is concerned for a friend?” Finan replied in the same volume.</p><p>Tove turned her face a fraction toward him and Finan swore he saw the shimmer of unshed tears with his limited view of her eyes. It seemed his attempt to lighten the mood had failed. At a loss, Finan asked the question he truly sought an answer to.</p><p>“Tove, what are ye doin’ out here?”</p><p>She inhaled deeply possibly to hide the sniffle he thought he heard. “Being questioned by an Irishman who seems to have quite a habit of intruding on my peace.”</p><p>Finan frowned.</p><p>Turning to survey him fully, Tove’s expression was filled with tell tale signs of instant regret. “I don’t know why I said that…”</p><p>“You’re upset.”</p><p>She nodded. “Still…I am sorry.”</p><p>“There is no need to be.” Finan reached over to rest a hand lightly on her knee.</p><p>“Thank you.” Once again, her voice was barely a whisper however she did manage a weak smile. “You are a true friend and I appreciate you.”</p><p>Something in Finan’s chest clenched uncomfortably at her words, but nonetheless he smiled in return.</p><p>After a time Finan convinced Tove they ought to return to the city arguing there was no reason to sleep upon the ground when their beds were so near. Having no fair defense against it, she yielded. They doused the fire with water from the spring and he rode behind her on Alvis as he picked his way through the trees to where Finan had left Gúthwine.</p><p>Upon reaching the grey stallion, Tove brought Alvis to a stop so that Finan could dismount. Despite the fair weather that night a chill ran through her with the sudden loss of his assuring presence at her back. Before that night she had not fully realized what a comfort he was to her. And as she watched him climb into his own saddle, she almost called to stop him, but then the moment passed and Tove had managed to stay her words.</p><p>Once he was seated Finan gestured for her to lead the way and they were off. Neither spoke as they rode at a leisurely pace back toward Lundene. Their silence was companionable as both seemed to be lost within their own thoughts though as they came within a hundred meters of the gate Tove broke it.</p><p>“Do you have siblings?” Tove asked suddenly.</p><p>Finan hesitated in his answer, but eventually he said, “Yes -a brother.”</p><p>“What is he like?”</p><p>He snorted. “He is an arrogant turd.”</p><p>“Not like you at all then,” Tove said dryly, though her eyes sparkled with humor.</p><p>“And what of your brother?” Finan asked.</p><p>“Kåre,” she supplied and Finan nodded. “He is…strong -a fierce protector- but also quite funny when he is not so busy being serious.”</p><p>Finan nodded along absently as she spoke staring off into space. “Sounds a bit like Lord Uhtred.”</p><p>Tove chuckled. “In that way, I suppose he is.”</p><hr/><p>Commotion was spreading through the camp with news that Bloodhair’s witch had made a prophecy of Alfred’s imminent death. When the news reached him, Kåre was in the middle of a duel with one of his subordinates. The man who carried the news had been present when Skade emerged from the wood to proclaim to Bloodhair what she had seen. Instead of waiting around to find out the truth of it, he abandoned his sparring partner and set off to find Bloodhair because surely this was a sign they were to move. At Bloodhair’s tent he found several other Jarls were already there including the newly arrived Ketill who was speaking animatedly to the group.</p><p>Eyeing the older Jarl with some interest, Kåre surveyed those present. Other than Ketill those he recognized were Jari, Einar, and Bjørn. Then there was Harald who was listening to Ketill as he spoke about his hopes for their coming victory. Kåre waited for a moment so Ketill could finish speaking before he interrupted.</p><p>“It is true then?”</p><p>Everyone’s attention turned to Harald at Kåre’s words, as a number of those present had only just arrived, to hear confirmation of what they had been told. </p><p>“It is. The Saxon King will die,” said Harald triumphantly. “At my sword.”</p><p>A soft murmuring began to rise as the assembled Jarl’s and captain’s exchanged glances excitedly.</p><p>“We must strike first!” Ketill asserted. “They know we are here. Surely they are already amassing their forces.”</p><p>Harald nodded in agreement.</p><p>“From what you have told me of Haesten, he will not aid us?” It was phrased as a question, but the words carried the air of a statement.</p><p>“He will not,” spat Ketill.</p><p>“And how many horses do we here possess?” Harald asked.</p><p>“No more than two thousand.” Someone answered.</p><p>Harald was thoughtful for a moment. “It is enough.”</p><p>Kåre felt inclined to disagree but was reticent to do so. Two thousand was more than enough for effective and aggressive raiding, but he had never fought the Saxons. All his previous raiding had been in the Irish land where the fighting was bitter and difficult. However, he had been drawn to Wessex though by the prospect of a Great Army which might finally conquer the Saxons. Seeing as no others objected, he supposed perhaps two thousand was enough for an initial assault.</p><p>From there debate began over who would be staying behind and that brought a much more heated debate. Harald began by taking account of how many fighters they had amassed in total -which was at an estimate near five thousand. Once that was settled, they began to argue over who was to go and who was to stay -protecting the ships and raiding only in the surrounding country for the things they required. It took several tedious hours of bickering to come to a final decision and predictably not everyone was happy with it. Though for Kåre, luck was with him and he had been chosen by Harald to be among the riders considering most of his men already had horses.</p><p>He returned to his own camp site that evening with a feeling of anticipation growing in his chest. Kåre called for his second and instructed him to inform their warriors to make ready. Harald was intent on leaving in the morning to begin harrying Alfred’s lands. After packing the few belongings he would require Kåre settled in to sleep.</p><p>In the morning Kåre waited by the stallion who had been gifted to him by Tove before she had set out for Beamfleot. She had called him Roar saying that it was a fitting name for his companion in battle as he himself was a fighter worthy of much praise. At the time he had teased her for being so sentimental, but just then he wondered if he had not been grateful enough of the gift. Though he was not able to dwell on the thought for long when Halvar appeared.</p><p>Kåre’s expression smoothed to a look of objective calm at the sight of his long-time friend despite the frustration he still harbored over their last conversation. At first, he had of course been overjoyed to hear that his sister still lived, but that she was in the company of the Dane-slayer unsettled him. A part of him was also quite angry though he was unsure of with whom. It would be easy to direct his anger toward Halvar as the messenger and the one who had left her behind; however, nor had Tove deserted the Saxons at Scaepege when she had the chance. So Kåre was left in a strange limbo in regard to the whole ordeal.</p><p>“Should you not be with Ketill?” Kåre asked somewhat stiffly when Halvar reached him.</p><p>Halvar let out a long-suffering sigh at the mention of the Jarl. “He is intolerable to be around just now.”</p><p>Kåre was unable to suppress his chuckle. “I’d imagine so. Abandoning Haesten for his inaction, only to be left behind due to lack of horses.”</p><p>“He’ll not stay put,” Halvar commented mildly.</p><p>“What makes you say so?”</p><p>Halvar only shrugged.</p><p>Turning away for a moment, Kåre busied himself checking his saddle bags. He still didn’t really feel like things were quite normal between them. Clearly Halvar felt the same if the tension that hung between them was any indication. Sighing to himself, Kåre spoke again when it seemed Halvar did not intend to.</p><p>“I am not angry.”</p><p>At first Kåre thought his friend had not heard him over the surrounding din of activity.</p><p>“Aren’t you though?” Halvar finally asked.</p><p>He conceded. “Perhaps.”</p><p>“At me.”</p><p>It was not a question. Kåre secured the ties on his bag and turned back to face Halvar. The stockier man’s nose still bore some mild swelling from where Kåre had punched him. He had the good grace to look a shade guilty.</p><p>“It isn’t broken,” Halvar supplied.</p><p>Kåre nodded.</p><p>“I am glad,” he paused before adding with a bit of humor. “Then you would have truly been ugly.”</p><p>Breaking out into a grin, Halvar laughed. “Such a bastard.”</p><p>Kåre chuckled along with him until they both subsided.</p><p>“I am sorry.” He said as the smile faded somewhat from his face. “There was nothing you could have done under such circumstances. I see that now.”</p><p>“Well…I suppose I could have suggested to Ketill that we kidnap her?” Halvar joked. “Though, I do not think you would have thanked me for that.”</p><p>Kåre shook his head.</p><p>“What will you do?” Halvar asked tentatively.</p><p>“I can not believe she is loyal to this Saxon as you say,” Kåre said firmly. “So, I will do all that I can to reach her and bring her back safely.”</p><p>Halvar’s expression was neutral as he nodded in understanding, but he did not believe it could be done. He had seen the way Tove’s eyes had flashed with anger when she corrected him; though, he was not surprised by Kåre’s resolve. Tove was his sister from birth and they had been close for as long as he had known them. No matter how much he liked her, Halvar was not sure he could forgive aligning herself thus. Objectively, he supposed it was better that Ketill had been instructed to stay close to camp for if he were to meet Tove in battle he would not hesitate.</p><p>Feeling the matter resolved, Kåre moved on to lighter topics until warriors started to mount up and they had to say their goodbyes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>End note about Finan and Tove’s exchange about fairies. I only have a base knowledge in Irish or Norse folklore so I hope I haven’t misrepresented what the common attitude towards talk of fairies/fairy deals would have been at the time. It’s a topic I’ve always wanted to study deeper, but just haven’t gotten around to.<br/>Also according to google Gúthwine means “battle-friend” in Anglo-Saxon which I thought was fitting for a war horse. And Alvis means “all-wise” in Norse which seemed like something Tove would call her horse because as I wrote this chapter I started to realize she has a great reverance for them.<br/>And if you're enjoying the story don't forget to leave kudos? Maybe even a comment? That would be pretty rad,</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This story is basically writing itself at the moment which is great. I intended so much more to happen in this chapter and somehow it ended up being an absolute emotional roller coaster instead. Though some important stuff does still happen. (I may just be subconsciously delaying Gisela’s death. I do love her so much.) Anyway as always your thoughts are always appreciated :)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Æscengum was where King Alfred intended to defeat Bloodhair. Upon receiving word, the Bishop sought out Uhtred to convey their King’s decision and request for troops. Together they stood on the top terrace landing to one of Lunden’s Roman houses looking out over the city. They were not alone as Finan was also there, but the Irishman was content to listen in silence while they spoke.</p><p>“Æscengum!” Uhtred barked.</p><p>Erkenwald shot a scathing look in Uhtred’s direction and rebuked him for his amused tone. Predictably, Uhtred did not seem to care much for the Bishop’s admonishment, merely waiting for the sour man to continue, and he did.</p><p>“Our Lord King,” he began. “Has called for you and some of your warriors to join him. If the safety of this city is ensured in their absence.”</p><p>“It is,” Uhtred assured.</p><p>Though his Lord did not indicate it aside from his quick response, Finan knew Uhtred was galvanized that Alfred had finally called for him. It had been weeks since Danes had first been spotted, yet all Wessex had done was assemble their army and wait.</p><p>“Haesten will not attack?” Erkenwald pressed.</p><p>“He won’t.”</p><p>Their conversation continued apace for a few more minutes, with the Bishop questing Uhtred until he felt certain Lunden would be safe. The matter then settled, Erkenwald took his leave of their presence, having no desire to dawdle in the pagan’s company. Uhtred and Finan watched him walk off -the waiting priests trailing behind until he was out of sight.</p><p>“Æscengum?” Finan commented mildly then.</p><p>“It is between Harald and Haesten’s forces,” Uhtred responded dryly. “They’ve marched their army across Wessex and accomplished nothing.”</p><p>Finan hummed absently. “Æthelred?”</p><p>“Perhaps.”</p><p>“Will Harald go there?” Finan asked, knowing the answer.</p><p>Uhtred shot Finan a meaningful look.</p><p>“I didn’t think so.” The Irishman chuckled.</p><p>Silently both men contemplated the merit or lack thereof to the supposed plan. It was spectacularly unlikely to succeed given that with the West Saxon army virtually out of their way, Bloodhair could simply continue to raid as much as he liked. Of course, to defeat Alfred had its draw, but the Danes were not the sort with an appetite for sieges, and to attack Æscengum would be a siege. That burh was relatively small and lay in the heart of Wessex, where it served to protect Winchester from the east. It had high strong walls and palisades, and if Harald had half a brain, he would leave Alfred to sit behind them while he enriched himself.</p><p>Finan soon found himself wondering what Tove would have to say about the plan when she heard. Surely, she would see the flaws and balk at its absurdity. The thought of it brought a small smile to his face.</p><p>“I’m going to ask Tove to stay behind,” Uhtred said suddenly.</p><p>Finan looked at him sharply. “She won’t like that.”</p><p>Uhtred’s answering look was hard. “Probably not.”</p><p>It was not difficult for Uhtred to read in Finan’s face that he wanted to ask why but was reluctant to question his judgment.</p><p>“I’ll need someone to stay with Gisela and the children.” Supplied Uhtred.</p><p>“No other reason?” Finan ventured.</p><p>“They get on well.”</p><p>Finan nodded. That much was true as the two had bonded over being pagan Danes among the Christian Saxons and were friends. Though there was another reason that neither Uhtred nor Finan was willing to directly voice. While it was their nature that the Danes squabbled routinely amongst themselves, Tove had not faced any Danes on a real battlefield since joining Uhtred’s household, and he felt somewhat cautious of putting her in such a position.</p><p>It was not because he doubted her loyalty to him or capability as a warrior. More specifically, he did not want to put her in a position that might cause her to hesitate and, therefore, be injured or killed. Uhtred knew avoiding that eventuality with Harald breathing down Wessex’s throat would not be possible for long unless he was defeated. So, despite knowing Tove would likely curse him for keeping her away, he would do what he could for a time -as her friend and Lord.</p><p>Several hours before the sunset, Uhtred found her seated on a bench in the yard wiping dirt from her face with a damp cloth. Since the night Finan had brought her back from the woods, Tove was changed, and Uhtred had noticed -though it was subtle. Not only had she returned to her more cheerful self, spending time again with the other warriors and with Gisela, but he perceived some of the heaviness she carried since Scaepege had been lifted from her shoulders. Finan had not shared the details of that night with Uhtred though it did not take one of much wit to determine the improvement was thanks to him. That was why Uhtred had chosen to share his plans with Finan before seeking her out. He trusted that had the Irishman any reservations about his decision, he would have voiced them then.</p><p>Tove let out a laugh at something Sihtric had said as Uhtred approached them. She sat next to Osferth, who Uhtred noted, was also covered in dirt with Sihtric across from them. All three seemed to be rather enjoying themselves.</p><p>“I slipped!” she exclaimed.</p><p>“You can’t lie to me,” Sihtric teased. “I saw it. Osferth used your own trick against you. Kicked your foot right out from under ya!”</p><p>“What’s this I hear? Tove Ødgersdottier has been beaten by a monk?”</p><p>Sihtric jumped at the chance to recount the story. Speaking with hardly concealed amusement, he filled in his Lord on the details of Osferth and Tove’s spar. She threw a weak glare at the half-Dane when he chuckled at the part where Osferth had copied the move she had used to win their first practice duel. Using his shield, he had pushed hard, causing her to stumble, thereby allowing him to kick a foot out from under her. When Sihtric had finished, Uhtred chortled good-naturedly.</p><p>“You cannot fault him for having learned from your style.” Uhtred pointed out.</p><p>Sihtric nodded and attempted to console her. “It is a clever trick.”</p><p>“Aye.” Tove agreed. “And you did well, baby monk.”</p><p>Having kept quiet up to that point, Osferth smiled and thanked her. Inclining her head slightly, Tove smiled in return.</p><p>“You are unhurt?” Osferth asked.</p><p>“Do not worry for me, friend. A sore backside will not slow me down.”</p><p>Before Osferth or Sihtric could reply, Uhtred interrupted. “I need to speak with you for a moment, Tove.”</p><p>Nodding, she got to her feet and followed her Lord without question. He led her out of the yard towards the armory to stow away the training staffs. There was only a young man inside when they arrived, and he left after replacing his stave in its proper place. Tove lingered momentarily, glancing at Uhtred, before going to set the staffs on their rack. Uhtred was not one to hesitate for lack of words though, he felt the need to choose them carefully for the news he was to deliver.</p><p>“Lord?” Tove asked when the silence became intolerable to her.</p><p>Brow crinkling some, he scratched his chin.</p><p>“Is everything alright?”</p><p>Uhtred dropped his hand, focusing on her face. A faint concern shadowed her otherwise calm expression as she awaited his answer.</p><p>“I received word from Alfred.” Uhtred paused before clarifying. “It is the king’s wish that I join him at Æscengum.”</p><p>Pointed as his words were, they also seemed meant to convey more than their obvious meaning. What meaning was, was not readily apparent to Tove. She made no effort to conceal her confusion from him.</p><p>“This is good news, is it not?”</p><p>“It is. The sooner Bloodhair is dealt with the better. But-” Uhtred heaved a sigh. “I need you to stay here.”</p><p>Comprehension dawned on her and a small frown rose to her lips.</p><p>“I want you to guard Gisela and my children. It will be you, along with Cerdic and a few others.”</p><p>“I understand, Lord.” Said Tove in a carefully calm tone, which surprised Uhtred a little.</p><p>Tension Uhtred had not realized he carried, released in his shoulders. “It is because I trust you to see that they are safe.”</p><p>Tove’s answering smile was gentle, and she bowed her head with respect. “I will.”</p><p>Uhtred nodded, and taking that as her dismissal, she left without another word.</p><p>After exiting the armory, Tove wandered aimlessly through the streets. All around her were Lunden’s citizens going about their daily life with little care for what happened out in the wider world. Part of Tove wished that was her lot, but her subconscious knew she would not be content with that sort of life. Both of her parents had been warriors; she and Kåre took after them in that regard. If she found a man and settled down, Tove imagined she would still be a warrior even then. So, the realization that her friends would be heading off to battle without her was a difficult one to swallow.</p><p>Of course, they would keep each other safe, but not being able to be there, all Tove was liable to do was worry. It occurred to her that that must be how Igna felt every time Kåre sailed. She did not like it.</p><p>That evening Tove chose to visit with Gisela and Ealhswith at Uhtred’s house for the chief purpose of avoiding any of the pre-battle enthusiasm that surely accompanied the news they would be riding out on the morrow. Blessedly the women avoided talking about it in her presence, which told her they already knew she’d be staying behind. It didn’t surprise her, considering Uhtred was likely to have informed Gisela who would be staying to guard the family, and Ealhswith could have learned from either her or Sihtric. Regardless of how they knew, Tove was thankful not to be surrounded by the whooping and shouting that was likely happening at the tavern.</p><p>They chatted idly about various mindless topics for several hours before Ealhswith decided it was time to get her children to bed. After bidding them goodnight, she gave Gisela and Tove both a quick hug and hurried off. Tove was then left alone by Gisela for a brief time as she put her own children to bed. When she returned, Gisela looked somewhat drained.</p><p>“I can leave if you’re tired.” Tove offered.</p><p>Gisela gave a short laugh as she took the seat beside Tove. “You’re fine; this one is determined to keep me up awhile longer anyhow.”</p><p>Tove’s grey eyes followed Gisela’s hand to her heavily pregnant belly.</p><p>“Do you think it will be a girl?” she asked.</p><p>“Definitely not. He kicks just as young Uhtred and Osbert did. It will be a boy.”</p><p>“When we were children, Kåre, always complained of our mother disliking him because she would not give him a brother.” Tove chuckled, but her face held a sadness.</p><p>Gisela put a reassuring hand on Tove’s arm. “I am sure he misses you too.”</p><p>“He thinks I am dead,” she said dryly. “At Scaepege...His best friend, Halvar, he was there. I spoke to him, and Halvar told me they all thought I was dead when they heard of the Thurgilson’s defeat.”</p><p>The dark-haired Dane frowned. “Was Kåre with him?”</p><p>Shaking her head, Tove took a sharp breath. “I was too thoughtless to ask.”</p><p>They were silent as Gisela rubbed Tove’s arm comfortingly.</p><p>“He tried to convince me not to come here -to stay for his child’s birth. Kåre has never had an interest in Wessex. He does his raiding in Frisia or Ireland.” Tove paused. “Perhaps so long as he thinks I am dead, he will stay away.”</p><p>Gisela looked deep in thought when Tove finished speaking, and they were both silent for what felt like quite a while but was, in reality, only a few minutes.</p><p>“Uhtred.” Gisela began carefully. “He would release you from your oath -if you asked it of him.”</p><p>Tove looked at the older woman in evident shock.</p><p>“My husband is not unkind. He knows what it is to be parted from home and loved ones,” she added.</p><p>To ask such a thing had never crossed Tove’s mind. If it had been posed to her months ago, she might have considered it, but now she found she could not. Not when just the thought of her friends going to battle without her caused her such great distress, and to think of never seeing them again felt impossible.</p><p>“I have never thought Uhtred unkind. He spared my life when many would not have,” Tove said firmly. “But I would not ask for that.”</p><p>“Not even to see Kåre or your sisters?” Gisela asked.</p><p>“Perhaps one day, when we have gone north, retaken Bebbanburg, it will be possible to see them, but I cannot part from him now.”</p><p>The knowing smile on Gisela’s face was odd to Tove, but she felt glad that the Lady seemed to understand. Not much later, Uhtred returned from the tavern, and Tove returned home.</p><p>Instead of being at all restful, her sleep that night was filled with fragmented dreams of battle. Some of them were of Beamfleot. In the first of those, she reached Njal in time to save him from Finan’s blade, only for her former Lord to turn on Finan and disembowel the Irishman before her eyes. Another version featured her brother in Njal’s place. There was also her dodging Finan’s shield and killing him upon realizing he had slain her Lord.  Then came the skirmish in Frisia, where she first killed a man, except it was not a random soldier; it was Osferth or Sihtric, or Uhtred, or perhaps all of them at once. The face of the dying man had seemed to change before her very eyes as she stared down at him past her bloodstained hands.</p><p>By far, the worst of them was of a battle that was entirely unfamiliar to her. She was engaging a huge man who wielded a vicious war axe when she heard her name being called from across the field. Desperately Tove yelled back, telling the caller to hold fast. For a time, she struggled against the giant, who was determined to split her head open. Every time Tove thought she had him or that she might simply escape, he was there again. The calls were growing more urgent, but she couldn’t get away. Her shield was lost. All she had was Mercy, her short sword, and Fate, her long blade. He just kept coming and she was starting to tire from dodging.</p><p>Finally, an opening appeared as the behemoth swung his axe sloppily, missing her entirely; Tove was swift enough to take advantage of his mistake. Quick as she could, Tove thrust Mercy into the man’s belly, causing him to drop the axe as she twisted her blade on its way out. Not thinking twice about the dying man, Tove shoved pasted him and sprinted through the throng of battle towards the voice. Upon catching sight of the body lying prone on their back, her heart felt like it had stopped, and she sat up in bed, the sun shining through her window.</p><p>Despite knowing the dream for what it was, Tove was disturbed by it. Feeling an intense desire to assure herself of her friends’ safety before their imminent departure, she washed her face and dressed with haste. On her way to the stables, Tove made a point to try not to think of it though she could not help wondering whose cold dead eyes would have been staring up at her had she not woken.</p><p>Osferth was there already, loitering outside when she arrived. Having seen her approach from a distance, he called out a greeting when Tove was near enough to hear. She responded in kind, intentionally slowing her step to calm herself some before she reached him. The young former monk was whole and unharmed; it had been foolish to fear otherwise.</p><p>“I did not think to see you here,” Osferth said.</p><p>Tove arched a single brow at him. “Did you not expect me to see you off?”</p><p>He flushed, though whether at the mild joking implication in her tone or for feeling somewhat chastised by her words; it was unclear.</p><p>“Where are the others?” she asked, to deflect from her friend’s moment of embarrassment.</p><p>“Lord Uhtred is awake. He sent me to make sure the stable hands had the horses ready by the time he arrived.”</p><p>“Sihtric and Finan?” Tove asked.</p><p>“Likely still in their beds,” Osferth replied. “Both consumed a horrifying amount of ale last night.”</p><p>Tove nodded absently. “When are you to leave?”</p><p>“Before the mid-day meal or once everyone has arrived, whichever is sooner.”</p><p>The sight of Osferth had calmed Tove’s nerves considerably, but she felt the uncharacteristic anxiety would not be wholly banished until she had set eyes on all her friends.</p><p>“I could fetch them?” she offered.</p><p>“If you like.” Osferth chuckled. “I doubt they’ll be very agreeable.”</p><p>“Then I shall be doing you a favor,” Tove said.</p><p>Osferth nodded. “I will let Uhtred know when he gets here.”</p><p>She thanked him and set off towards Sihtric and Ealhswith’s home. It took Tove only fifteen minutes to reach the house walking at a leisurely pace. Sihtric’s daughter Elflæd was sitting outside playing with a home-made straw doll when she arrived. The dark-haired girl who looked so like her father smiled at Tove when she saw her.</p><p>“You’re here to see my daddy.” The girl observed astutely.</p><p>“Is he awake?” Tove asked lightly.</p><p>A sly grin spread across Elflæd’s face, which only served to make her look more like a miniature female version of Sihtric, and she whispered. “Mommy threw water on him.”</p><p>Tove chuckled. “Did she?”</p><p>Elflæd nodded excitedly. “Dolly and I laughed for a long time, but daddy didn’t think it was funny.”</p><p>“I’m sure he didn’t,” Tove said. “Is your mother inside?”</p><p>“She’s feeding Tellan!”</p><p>“I’ll go see them then,” she said and ruffled Elflæd’s hair before entering the home.</p><p>Ealhswith was at the kitchen table attempting to spoon porridge into her defiant son’s mouth with a look of utter defeat. Tove paused in the threshold to watch as the fussy Tellan smacked the spoon from his mother’s hand. She had to stifle a laugh when Ealhswith just stared at the offending piece of cutlery.</p><p>“I would say good morning, but I see that it is not,” Tove said once she had control of herself.</p><p>The Saxon lady looked up at her in slight astonishment. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”</p><p>“I should have announced myself.”</p><p>“No, no! It’s alright -you are always welcome. Are you looking for Sihtric?” Ealhswith asked, bending to retrieve the spoon.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Just a moment.” She stood and went to the stairs to call for him. “Sihtric!”</p><p>There was some shuffling above them and a muffled groan. Ealhswith looked at Tove and rolled her eyes for dramatic effect, but she was smiling.</p><p>“Here come and sit. Have you eaten?” Ealhswith asked, pausing on her way back to her seat. “I can get you some. I made plenty -though it seems half of it will end up on the floor.”</p><p>“Uh no, but you don’t need to trouble yourself,” Tove said, nodding her head towards Tellan as she took up a seat across from Ealhswith. “I see you’ve got your hands full.”</p><p>Before Ealhswith could answer, heavy footfalls came thumping down the stairs and a bedraggled Sihtric appeared -his hair and tunic were both damp. Tove covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing audibly at the sight of him. He stopped at the foot of the stair, throwing her an irritable look, then continued to the table where he plopped down into the seat next to his wife.</p><p>“You’ve no one to blame but yourself,” Ealhswith said to her husband.</p><p>Sihtric just groaned, dropping his head into his waiting hands. Ealhswith gave a long-suffering sigh before turning her attention back to their son.</p><p>“Are you sure you won’t eat?” The question was directed at Tove.</p><p>“No, I just came to check Sihtric was awake. I still have to go by Finan’s,” Tove replied. “Perhaps I’ll ask Gisela if she’d like to come for the evening meal, though?”</p><p>“Yes, that would be-” But Ealhswith was unable to finish her sentence due to Sihtric’s abrupt interruption.</p><p>“You’re going to Finan’s?” he asked.</p><p>Confused, Tove replied affirmatively.</p><p>Sihtric’s face paled, but he did his best to play it off. “I can get him. I’m sure you have...guard duties to get to.”</p><p>“I have no duties until everyone departs.” Tove eyed Sihtric suspiciously.</p><p>“Then I’ll come with you. Who knows what state Finan’s in,” he said.</p><p>And before she could reject the offer, Sihtric was on his feet heading for the door to pull on his boots. Tove glanced at Ealhswith, who only shrugged at the half-Dane’s strange behavior. By the time the women had exchanged their goodbyes and made their tentative plans to meet for dinner, Sihtric was standing outside waiting. There was tension between them as they made their way through the street, but Tove didn’t know what could be causing it.</p><p>It was no strange thing for her to go by the Irishman’s home after a night of drinking, so for Sihtric to insist on joining her was odd. Tove sent a few scrutinizing looks his way, but Sihtric made no comment. So, she walked alongside him in silence until they reached Finan’s house when he turned to her.</p><p>“I’ll go in first,” he said with no room for argument.</p><p>Tove frowned in response. Sihtric hovered next to her for a moment and she looked at him expectantly. Vainly perhaps, Tove hoped he was about to explain what the problem was but instead, Sihtric just looked at her carefully. She was about to demand some answers for his peculiar attitude when a crash sounded inside the house.</p><p>There was no time for Sihtric to stop her as Tove swiftly sidestepped him to push the door open. The curtains were drawn, so the small home’s interior was dim when she entered the main living area accompanied by Sihtric. Their eyes adjusted and the two looked around for anything that could have been the source of the sound. There was nothing; cups and platters were set in their place, chairs were pushed in, and Finan was nowhere to be seen. Though, they did spy that the door to the bedroom was slightly ajar.</p><p>Without thinking, Tove headed for the door. This time Sihtric was prepared to stop her, though, and he put a hand on her arm to halt her progress. She shot him a dirty look.</p><p>“What?” she snapped, rather fed up with his behavior.</p><p>“I don’t think he is alone.”</p><p>The suggestion gave Tove a pause, for she felt utterly obtuse not to have considered it as a possibility before surging into the house. Her only thought after the dreams she’d had was to ensure her friend was alright. Flushing a deep scarlet, Tove shrugged Sihtric’s arm off and stepped back from the door. Sihtric went inside, leaving the door open behind him; Tove did not peer in. She could hear Sihtric inside the room, attempting the rouse Finan. Then came a female voice, and for a reason she couldn’t explain, Tove instantly felt compelled to leave.</p><p>Outside, Tove stood with her back to the house, staring into the street. The concern that had briefly filled her drained away only to be replaced by something she couldn’t quite place. Whatever it was, Tove pushed it down. It wasn’t the first time in her life she’d found a friend in bed with someone. There was no reason to be bothered, Tove told herself. It was just Finan. Yet somehow, she had never thought of him being with someone nor had she seen him with anyone either, and she had been part of Uhtred’s household warriors for almost two years. Or perhaps, she’d just never noticed it? Tove frowned at that. It was unlikely; Finan had become her best friend and they spent quite a bit of time together.</p><p>Voices could be heard coming from inside the house. One of them Finan’s distinctive Irish lilt, then Sihtric and a female. Tove involuntarily stiffened when footsteps came up behind her shortly after the talking stopped, but it was only Sihtric. His expression was searching when he first met her eyes.</p><p>“He’ll meet us at the stables in a while,” Sihtric said.</p><p>Tove nodded.</p><p>“In the meantime, I’m starving. Come on.”</p><p>And Tove allowed herself to be led back to his and Ealhswith’s home -the dream and her worry forgotten.</p><p>The previous night’s events were cloudy in Finan’s mind, but he did recall the woman serving him and the others ale most of the evening. She was reasonably pretty with her ashy blonde hair, dark eyes, and an ample figure. Throughout the night, she had smiled at him and perhaps they spoke a few words in passing, though that conversation was lost to the fog of ale. What he could remember more clearly was bidding Sihtric goodnight when he returned from taking a piss and leaving with the barmaid. How that had come about, he wasn’t wholly sure. In his next full memory, they were at his house; she walked ahead of him towards the bedroom, leading him along with a mischievous glint in her eye.</p><p>The next thing he knew, she was lying naked beneath him moaning too loudly, clutching his shoulders, but it wasn’t her -at least not in his mind. His inebriated brain hadn’t seen the tavern wench. Instead, he had been gazing down at Tove writhing beneath him with her near-white blonde hair haloed around her head, moaning with pleasure as he made love to her, and staring intently into his eyes. He leaned down to brush a tender kiss to her lips, but when he pulled away it was the barmaid again. Any further details of the night beyond that had slipped through his fingers. Finan grumbled to himself, imagining the whole encounter must not have been that outstanding if it did not cut through the haze.</p><p>Having finished dressing, the barmaid emerged from Finan’s room. She still looked somewhat disheveled, but at least she was adequately dressed, though there was no reason to worry over it as Sihtric and Tove had already gone. Her smile faltered at the sight of Finan splashing water from a bowl onto his face. He didn’t acknowledge her at first as he stared blankly at the still water.</p><p>“Are you alright?” she asked tentatively.</p><p>Finan started not having realized her presence. “I’m fine…”</p><p>She went to place a hand on his shoulder, but Finan’s voice halted her.</p><p>“Look, we had fun an all, but ye do not need to make it what it is not,” he murmured.</p><p>Her breath stuck in her throat. She stepped back, squared her shoulders, and smoothed her expression. That was not the morning greeting she had expected to hear after how tender and passionate Finan had been with her, but whatever his reasons were, she supposed she’d just have to accept them.</p><p> “I’ll just be going then.”</p><p>“That, is probably best,” Finan replied, still not looking away from the bowl.</p><p>He was alone then staring into nothingness and pondering. The vision of Tove was seared into his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, it was there. Of course, Finan had always recognized she was beautiful, not to would have been to lie, but as their friendship grew, he tried not to think about her beauty. It was more difficult though, after the woods when in the glow cast by the fire, he could have sworn for a moment he had in fact come upon one of the fair folk. And the heat he had felt emanating from her when he had rested his hand on her knee had stayed with him long after the contact was over.</p><p>In a sudden burst of frustration, Finan smacked the bowl away only vaguely hearing it smash against the far wall. He couldn’t do this. Feeling this way was wrong, but it was only becoming more difficult to ignore. Perhaps that was what had spurred his drunken self to seek out a distraction? Well, he thought wryly, it clearly had not worked. Finan cursed under his breath in his native tongue. He needed to pull himself together. They were riding out in mere hours and he could not afford to go to battle in an unfocused state of mind.</p><p>Mentally, Finan shook himself before setting about packing the few things he’d need in a sack and heading for the stables. When he reached his destination, there were already some people congregated around outside. Among them, he spotted Tove with Osferth, Lord Uhtred and Gisela. She leaned effortlessly against the plank wall of the stable, engaged in a seemingly serious conversation with Uhtred and the others. Averting his gaze, Finan searched for Sihtric, but before he could locate the dark-haired Dane, his name was called. He looked to see Uhtred waving him over.</p><p>Unable to ignore his Lord, Finan walked over. Gisela was appealing to her husband regarding the extent of her guard when as he strode up. It seemed she felt Uhtred was being a tad excessive. Tove wore a look of amusement, whereas Osferth appeared to be considering the Lady’s point.</p><p>“Tell these three that ten men are a perfectly reasonable guard,” Uhtred said.</p><p>Finan arched a brow, exchanging looks with Osferth who shrugged, and Tove who in turn offered a placating glance to Uhtred.</p><p>“And what is the alternative?” he asked.</p><p>“Six is enough,” said Gisela.</p><p>“With three on and three off at any one time.” Added Tove.</p><p>“Seems fair to me,” said Finan.</p><p>Uhtred sighed. Seeing that he was outnumbered, he relented. “Alright, but Tove will stay at the house.”</p><p>Gisela smiled, and Finan had a suspicion the Lady had intended her to do just any way. The decision made Uhtred excused himself, with a swift kiss on his wife’s cheek, likely to check on some other business. Leaving Finan with the remaining three.</p><p>“I’ll meet you at the gate when they are ready to leave,” Gisela said to Tove.</p><p>The shieldmaiden indicated her agreement with a nod. Gisela threw a look at Osferth before she departed.</p><p>“I’ve got some things to check on,” Osferth added before heading off as well.</p><p>Tove watched Osferth hurry off with a curious look. She was sure she’d seen him complete his preparations earlier. Shrugging it off as the monk just being odd, she turned to scrutinize the Irishman’s appearance.</p><p>“I see you are well,” Tove said.</p><p>“Aye.”</p><p>“That is good.”</p><p>Finan felt an uncomfortable tension between them, but he was unsure of how to break it. Though Finan hadn’t seen her, he knew she was there with Sihtric at his house and didn’t know what she had seen.</p><p>“Did you know?” Tove asked, seeking his gaze.</p><p>“Know wha’?” he responded in mild surprise.</p><p>“Yesterday Uhtred told me I was to stay behind as part of Gisela’s guard. Did you know?”</p><p>Finan avoided her eyes when he answered. “Aye. He did tell me tha’.”</p><p>He could see her nod out of his periphery, but she made no verbal response.</p><p>“I warned him ya’ wouldn’ be happy.”</p><p>Tove hummed. “I am only unhappy to see my friend -friends- go to battle without me.”</p><p>Finan looked at her earnest grey eyes and wondered how he could dare hope for more from her. The many practical reasons she could not possibly want him aside; how he could even let himself be with her after Laoise. The grief of that ill-fated infatuation no longer stung, but its shadow was long and full of warning. Finan had not allowed himself anything more than a passing fancy for a woman since his exile from Ireland.</p><p>“You will look after yourself?” Her expression was pained.</p><p>“Of course.” Finan smiled, trying to lighten her mood. “I’ve made it this long, haven’t I.”</p><p>Rolling her eyes, Tove punched the Irishman lightly in the shoulder. Even though Finan hadn’t checked Gúthwine, he elected to stay and chat with her a while longer. Both were apparently reticent to part now the tension was dispelled, but when Uhtred called out for the departing warriors to saddle up, Finan was shocked how much time had passed. Tove appeared just as surprised.</p><p>“You had better get on then,” she said, pushing off the wall.</p><p>Without thinking, Finan stepped forward to embrace her and Tove returned it warmly, resting her forehead against his shoulder. He held her to him even as he felt the same rush of heat as when he’d touched her knee. When Finan finally thought he should let go, Tove held on; her fingers clutching him felt like an echo of the vision from the previous night, causing him to still.  She turned her head slightly to whisper in his ear.</p><p>“Come back.” Tove released him and the heat was gone.</p><p>Finan stared at her and thought to crack a joke, but none came. In the end, he could only nod.</p><p>Tove stood with Gisela and the children at the gate to watch them go. Uhtred led the precession flanked by Sihtric, Finan and Osferth -behind them rode three hundred of Lunden’s warriors. They all looked quite well in their battle finery and Tove committed their faces to memory. It was the first time she would be parted from them since coming to Lunden, a lingering feeling of doubt twisted in her gut telling her not all would go as planned. As they approached the gate, Tove caught Finan’s eye and smiled reassuringly. He returned the gesture and waved to her, but then Sihtric pulled his attention away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>endnote; I hope it was clear from Tove’s internal dialogue that she doesn’t think Finan is with someone now. And we finally got why Finan is holding himself back with her. But I mean come on man, it couldn’t possibly work out worse than him ending up on a slave ship -could it?<br/>Laoise is pronounced (Lee-sha)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Aye! Here I am again after a ridiculously long and random hiatus. So sorry about that by the way, but here we are with the next chapter :) I hope ya'll enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rypere and Kenward loitered near the horses while they waited for Uhtred’s command to move out. Only one of the two would be leaving with the soldiers. Kenward had been pulled from his regular duties to serve as a part of the forces heading to aid Alfred against Bloodhair. Rypere had not been chosen for that mission. He would instead be left under the command of Cerdic in Lundene, protecting Uhtred’s family.</p>
<p>“Lady Tove’s horse is still in his stall.” Observed Kenward tacitly.</p>
<p>Fixing Kenward with a bored look, Rypere sighed. He didn’t bother to correct Kenward’s use of the word Lady as there was no point. The comment was more than the simple statement of fact and the young Saxon knew it. Since Kenward had overheard Tove would also be staying behind as part of the guard, he had been probing his friend continuously, and it was starting to grate on Rypere.</p>
<p>“I imagine you’ll be spending quite a bit of time together. Has Cerdic assigned shifts?”</p>
<p>“You are the least subtle person I have ever met,” Rypere stated.</p>
<p>Kenward shrugged, hardly able to argue the observation. “You didn’t answer my question.”</p>
<p>Rypere considered his answer. “He did.”</p>
<p>“Well?” Kenward pressed. “Are you on shift with her?”</p>
<p>“Does it even matter?”</p>
<p>“Does it even matter?” Kenward gaped. “Of course, it does. God has done you a favor, and you would squander it?”</p>
<p>Rypere snorted incredulously. “I would not call bringing the Danes to bear against Wessex a favor.”</p>
<p>Kenward went to smack Rypere’s arm, but he dodged. “You know what I mean! Everyone will be away -Finan will be away. There are only six in the guard. Is it just chance you were both picked?”</p>
<p>“Finan offered to put in a word for me,” Rypere deflected.</p>
<p>“But has he? That was before Uhtred met with Jarl Haesten. It’s been weeks.” Kenward looked unimpressed.</p>
<p>“I don’t know.” Admitted Rypere.</p>
<p>Expression unchanging, Kenward said. “Then, I should think not.”</p>
<p>Rypere knew he had more to say, so simply waited for him to have out with it; prompting him would only make Kenward more circuitous in getting to his point, which Rypere hadn’t the patients for just then.</p>
<p>“I was on guard at the wall a few days ago when I saw Finan ride out toward the wood.” Kenward paused, glancing at something out of Rypere’s line of vision, and only continued after Rypere had cleared his throat. “Anyway, he was gone for hours. And when he came back, who do you think was with him?”</p>
<p>Pinching the bridge of his nose, Rypere closed his eyes for a moment. “Must I ask?”</p>
<p>“Well if you don’t want to know.” Kenward retorted indignantly.</p>
<p>“You gossip worse than a woman. Fine, who was with him?” Rypere asked finally, though he felt he knew the answer.</p>
<p>“Tove. If I had to guess, they arranged to meet out in the woods…” Kenward trailed off.</p>
<p>The implication of Kenward’s tale hung heavily between them, stoking the flicker of doubt Rypere had about the Irishman’s intent. He did not like how the story made him feel because he admired Finan -respected him deeply as a warrior- but it brought him back to the night he’d asked Tove to have a drink with him.  When he’d asked Finan to put in a word with Tove for him, Rypere had thought for just a moment the man might say no.</p>
<p>“No,” Rypere said, his tone halting.</p>
<p>Kenward’s brows rose. “Yes…I heard them laughing together as they came to the gate.”</p>
<p>“It doesn’t mean anything.” Rypere’s tone was snappish now.</p>
<p>Kenward held up a hand. “All I am saying is, the two have been close ever since she joined us.”</p>
<p>“She is close to Sihtric, Uhtred, and Osferth as well.” It was a feeble defense all but defeated by the incredulous look Rypere received in reply.</p>
<p>“As I said, this is an opportunity for you to become close too,” Kenward said encouragingly. “Do you not love her?”</p>
<p>Rypere did not know what to say. His friend had an excellent point. Whatever had or had not occurred in the woods between Finan and Tove, aside who could say how long it would take to defeat Bloodhair? It was a perfect chance for him to make a move. And perhaps despite his prior fumbles, Tove may even be more receptive to it without a distraction.</p><hr/>
<p>Villages dotted the West Saxon countryside interspersed with farmland and pastures that went on for miles. Galloping on horseback across that vast rolling country had a freeing nature to it that set Kåre grinning with anticipation of coming adventure. For him, it almost rivaled the spark of joy that came with pushing a ship off to head for the open ocean. It was chasing that feeling that drew him to raid, not wealth or reputation though those were positive consequences of successful raids.</p>
<p>Wessex, if they could conquer it, would be a jewel. Kåre even allowed himself to entertain the idea of bringing Igna, Ama, and his younger sister there when it was all over. They would love it. He smiled at the thought that by then, Tove would be with him and the elation his family would feel at seeing her alive again.</p>
<p>They reached the crest of a hill leading down into a small valley where a village came into view; there was a fair-sized hall, a few fine houses, and two sturdy barns. Their band came to a halt at the sight of it as Harald pulled his horse up alongside Kåre with Skade at his flank on her mare. Kåre found himself studying the witch instead of their leader just then. She gazed into the valley with bright, somewhat wild eyes and her hair seemed to stir in a breeze that blew entirely for her as he felt no wind. Skade was striking in her looks, but she was also brash and imprudent. He could see in her eyes that Skade wanted the village.</p>
<p>“Do we move on?” Kåre asked Harald.</p>
<p>Harald considered him as he looked out at the valley. The day’s first light was only just beginning to break over the horizon, so they could not be seen by the inhabitants down below. It was an opportune time to attack. There had been word though of a larger settlement not far where they may find more plunder than this small collection of houses might offer.</p>
<p>It was not Harald who spoke though it was Skade. “We must attack.”</p>
<p>Kåre turned to fix her with an incredulous stare, but Skade wasn’t looking at him. She stared at Harald with a rapt intensity as she urged him to attack. He kept his gaze on the valley for a beat more before focusing on Skade.</p>
<p>“They’ll never see us coming. Bloodhair, we must.”</p>
<p>“And why must we? Have we not a greater goal?” Kåre questioned evenly when Harald said nothing.</p>
<p>Skade’s eyes snapped to him in an instant, flickering with undisguised spite.</p>
<p>“Do you fear Saxons Ødgerson?” She hissed.</p>
<p>Kåre resisted the urge to rise to her goading, keeping a neutral expression. Skade did not do much to evoke the Jarl’s logical mind, but he trusted Harald could be persuaded to see reason so long as he kept a cool head. She narrowed her eyes at him as if she knew what he was doing, but then Harald finally spoke.</p>
<p>“You may take your guard and two crews. It is a small village that should be enough?”</p>
<p>“You will not join me, my Lord?” Skade asked, sounding somewhat irritated.</p>
<p>Harald’s look was mollifying. “I will send for you before any battle is fought.”</p>
<p>His words seemed to calm her some, but Skade still eyed Kåre from her periphery. “You will.”</p>
<p>Bloodhair raised a hand to call for her guard. Her guard and the selected crews formed up and were off before the sun fully rose over the horizon, thundering down into the valley at speed. Harald dawdled on the hill for a short time to observe as Skade and her forces reached the village and began the raid. The witch’s howling war cry could be heard if faintly even from their position. When he was satisfied, Harald turned to Kåre and gave a nod indicating they should move out without further delay.</p>
<p>Early afternoon of the following day, they came upon the larger town a ways north of where Skade had decided to raid. After riding hard for days without much rest, their supplies were beginning to run low, and they needed whatever fresh horses they could find. So upon sighting it, Harald ordered the attack and they descended on the settlement blades drawn.</p>
<p>They hadn’t even reached the town when people started running from their houses. Some ran directly for the woods or straight across fields, but many young and old men appeared carrying iron clubs, axes, or other farm equipment. They were not experienced warriors, though, like the Danes who were flooding the town. Most of them were slaughtered.</p>
<p>A man not much older than sixteen came from his house with a scream of rage going directly for Kåre as he rode up. He might have felt a sliver of remorse for killing the boy who had such a fire in his eyes except for the fact he did not attack Kåre himself, but his horse. The youth carried a scythe which he swung wildly at Kåre’s mount as he approached, catching the beast in its hindquarter. It faltered mid-step, leaving Kåre no choice but to leap from the horse’s back to avoid being crushed when it fell. Then the boy charged him, flecks of spittle flying as he screamed. Protecting himself with his sturdy Lindenwood shield, Kåre braced as the scythe crashed against its boards.</p>
<p>Unfortunately for the boy, the scythe’s blade stuck in the wood, allowing Kåre to swing the shield hard to the side, tearing the weapon from his hands. Kåre dropped the shield having no further use for it in its current state. When he rounded on the boy, there was fear in his eyes as they darted around searching for an escape, but there was none. Mercifully, Kåre ended his life with a single stroke of his sword that sprayed him with blood. The boy hit the ground with a thud and was dead shortly after. </p>
<p>By that time, Harald stormed the hall dragging an elegantly dressed man from inside by his hair. He was whimpering unintelligibly. Kåre’s lip curled with distaste as he approached the scene. The man who could only be the Lord of the town had stopped sniveling when he reached them, but Kåre did not understand the English words. He was spluttering at Harald.</p>
<p>“Please. P-please don’t kill me. I have silver. I.. I’ll give it to you. J-just don’t kill me.”</p>
<p>“Who are you?” Harald asked, speaking in the language of his captive.</p>
<p>“I am Dreogan.” The man said.</p>
<p>Harald nodded, looking quite bored with the man. “Dreogan. Do you have much silver?”</p>
<p>“I-I am the thegn in this town.” Dreogan stuttered. “Though we are richer in grain than silver.”</p>
<p>“Where is the silver?” Demanded Harald.</p>
<p>Tears were running down the thegn’s face. “It is buried, Lord. I-in the barn. Please. There is no need to kill anyone else.”</p>
<p>Ignoring the latter half of Dreogan’s words, Harald turned to a few of those who had gathered to watch and addressed them in Danish. “He says the silver is buried in the barn. Fetch it.”</p>
<p>With that, he dragged Dreogan back inside the hall, Kåre and some others followed behind. The fighting was over. All the town’s inhabitants having either fled or been killed by the raiders, leaving them with free reign.</p>
<p>While they waited for the silver to be found, Harald and his men helped themselves to Dreogan’s stores. It turned out he had been telling the truth about his town being rich in grain as there was plenty of bread and ale to go around. However, after several hours of digging in the barn, no silver was recovered. Harald had questioned the thegn again less calmly than he had at first, but when he gave no answer save sobbing for his life, the Dane had enough. Men were then instructed to search the village for whatever they could find; Dreogan’s throat was slit, and his body tossed from the hall.</p>
<p>Soon after, Harald summoned Kåre to his side at the head of the table. The blonde Dane pulled up a chair next to Harald, who offered him a cup nearly overflowing with ale. Kåre took it graciously before querying what it was Harald required.</p>
<p>“Will you take some men to fetch Skade?” Harald asked. “She has had enough time in that backwater. I want her at my side.”</p>
<p>“And I suppose we are to return here,” Kåre replied.</p>
<p>“Yes, we’ll move on from here. You’ve heard the reports -the Saxon army has retreated to one of their walled towns.”</p>
<p>“Winchester?” Kåre asked.</p>
<p>Harald shook his head. “No. I do not know the name of the place. It does not matter. Scouts have sighted them heading east. We raid until they have starved.”</p>
<p>Kåre felt a little dubious of the plan. If the Saxons’ had their army at this other town, why should they not simply attack Winchester? He had heard of its substantial stone walls, but if the army was not there, that would mean fewer men to defend those walls. It was possible that they might breach the walls and raid the city before Alfred could send reinforcements. They did not need to hold the city; just use it to draw out the King to where he could be killed in battle and Wessex would fall.</p>
<p>Perhaps either plan could work, though, so Kåre did not argue the point. Instead, he requested a few hours rest for his men before they set out, which Harald agreed to. Their business concluded, Kåre informed his crews of their mission before taking some rest himself. With their smaller force, he might be able to reach Skade’s town by mid-afternoon if they rode hard through the night.</p>
<p>It was several hours past noon when Kåre reached the hillcrest where they first spied the village, but he halted his men at the sight of it. Something was wrong. Horses grazed in a paddock, charred-out buildings no longer smoldered, but the place appeared deserted. It might not have been cause for alarm to find the site so abandoned if it were not for the great banner of a wolf’s head blowing in the wind.</p>
<p>They proceeded a little further down the hill with more caution. He felt reasonably sure none who rode with Harald bore such a banner. His assumption proved correct when he called for a man in their company who knew those lands better. The man told him it was the banner of Uhtred, the Dane-slayer. Kåre tightened the grip of his reigns reflexively at the name and his blood ran hot. He could not help wondering if Tove was with him or whether she was being kept prisoner somewhere. Kåre spat on the ground in his anger as if doing so could rid him of the offending emotion. It would do him no good here because from what he’d heard, Uhtred was smart.</p>
<p>When they had almost reached the town, a cry called out from the vanguard, alerting them to a presence at the other end of the valley. Abandoning the ruins, they advanced towards the emerging line of warriors. Even at a distance, Kåre was able to spot Skade standing barefoot with a rope around her neck beside a Lord dressed in Danish style who sat astride a large warhorse. His heart sank.</p>
<p>“Lord,” whispered the man to his left. “It is the Lady Skade…”</p>
<p>Kåre threw the man a dark look and he said nothing further. No one moved as Uhtred and a bearded man brought their stallions down a portion of the way down the hill, with Skade between them being led by the rope. Upon closer inspection, she had been stripped not only of her boots but her mail coat, leather jerkin, and all she possessed. The only things Skade wore were a pair of linen breeches and a thin tunic. When they stopped, Uhtred passed the rope to the bearded man before continuing the descent until he was within earshot of them.</p>
<p>“Tell me who leads you?” He called.</p>
<p>Kåre did not react. Uhtred had the high ground, their forces were near evenly matched in numbers, and there had been no recent rain that might have caused them to slide or trip. If he were to act impulsively and attack, it was a near certainty he and his men would be slaughtered. That aside, Kåre did not think Uhtred wanted a fight. The Saxon was showing them he had Skade, that he had stripped her of her armor and that she was at his mercy. The Dane-slayer wanted to insult them.</p>
<p>A voice in the back of his mind spoke unbidden as he looked at Skade’s state of vulnerability. Had Tove been treated in such a manner? Paraded about on a leash for the amusement of Uhtred’s men? Righteous anger rose in his chest at the thought of it. He did his best to push it down, knowing there was nothing he could do for Tove at that moment; Kåre kicked his horse a few paces forward.</p>
<p>“I do.” He spat.</p>
<p>“And who are you?”</p>
<p>“Kåre Ødgerson.”</p>
<p>The distance such that it was difficult to tell, but Kåre imagined by the silence following his declaration Uhtred was surprised though if he was, his response did not betray it.</p>
<p>“You will go. Go and tell Harald Bloodhair that Uhtred of Bebbanburg made a great slaughter of his men. You will tell him Uhtred has his whore. Tell him I have her, and I’ll use her for my amusement. Go!”</p>
<p>He had no time to make a response before Uhtred turned his horse and rode back to where Skade and his man waited. Kåre watched Uhtred take the rope and exchange a few words with her. A few of his men broke their line to ride just close enough to see Skade clearly, but Kåre did not need a closer look. The defiant lift of her chin before Uhtred maneuvered his stallion in front of her blocking his view, was enough to confirm it -even as a prisoner, she was brash. Kåre waited until Uhtred’s men disappeared from the hill crest to leave on the chance he changed his mind about attacking, but once they had gone, he called for a scout to follow them at a distance. Then they rode.</p>
<p>Finan looked at Uhtred quizzically. Debasing Skade as he had was not in Uhtred’s character. So long as they’d known each other, Finan had never known his Lord to be unkind toward women. He couldn’t help glancing back at the woman now appropriately dressed in her boots and jerkin to cover the near sheer tunic underneath.</p>
<p>“Why did ya do it, Lord?” Finan asked.</p>
<p>Uhtred also looked over his shoulder briefly at Skade. “I wanted him angry.”</p>
<p>“Angry enough to do something stupid,” Finan said.</p>
<p>Uhtred nodded. “Haesten says he is impulsive.”</p><hr/>
<p>Uhtred and the rest of the fighters had only been gone a week, and already Tove was starting to feel useless. She spent the days guarding Gisela and her three children. Cerdic and Rypere were usually on shift with her during that time while three others stood outside the house at night. In the evening, she would retreat to the training yard to practice what drills she could by herself before returning. Gisela had made good on her promise to have Tove stay with them at the house, and she slept in Stiorra's room while the girl stayed with her mother. It was an informal arrangement, but Tove longed to go on patrol because then she would feel like she was doing something though she did not voice her complaint. Gisela was her dearest friend, aside from Finan, and being in her company was no chore, but the guilt at being stagnant was there. At the time of her friends' departure, she'd told herself it would be okay, that she would be plenty distracted. But it was not always so.</p>
<p>One reprieve Tove quickly came to count on was the children who'd become fond of her over the years. Stiorra especially enjoyed toting her along on her childish adventures. Meanwhile, Obsert, the youngest, was especially keen to follow Tove wherever she went. So both were overjoyed to find her only duty at present was to guard them and therefore took full advantage of the situation.</p>
<p>It was not long after the afternoon meal that Tove found herself sitting on the dusty ground out front of Lord Uhtred's house. Stiorra was practicing braids in her hair while she played a simple game of marbles with Osbert. The child was about three summers in age then and had recently taken a fascination with the game. While his two elder siblings were worn out with the game, Tove did not mind it. Nor did she mind allowing the boy to win on occasion as his squeals of joy at having beaten her were reward enough. </p>
<p>"Father says we shouldn't let him win," said Stiorra seriously as she watched Tove purposefully miss with her marble for the third time in a row.</p>
<p>Quirking a brow, the blond Dane turned slightly, her expression a picture of innocence.  "I haven't the slightest idea what you're referring to, my Lady. Young Osbert is simply talented." Tove turned back to smile at the boy. "Aren't you?"</p>
<p>Osbert giggled as he shot his marble.</p>
<p>Stiorra frowned. "And I don't like it when you call me Lady."</p>
<p>"You're a Lady, aren't you?" Tove asked; her tone was light as she pretended to focus on her next move in their game.</p>
<p>Sighing dramatically, the girl tugged at Tove's braid. "So are you."</p>
<p>Tove scoffed. "I am no such thing."</p>
<p>"Your family own land!" Stiorra argued. "Back in Denmark."</p>
<p>Suppressing a sigh of exasperation, Tove gave a slight shake of her head. The girl was a sneaky one, often listening in on the adults when nobody was looking. There was little doubt in her mind Stiorra must have been doing precisely that when she'd spoken to Gisela of her family. Still, she wished the girl was a little more sly with her knowledge, but she would learn.</p>
<p>"Tell me about Denmark?" Stiorra pressed, causing Tove to actually miss when it was her turn with the marble.</p>
<p>"Denmark? Hasn't your mother told you of Denmark?" Tove asked.</p>
<p>Stiorra snorted. "Only that it is cold and wet and not at all like here."</p>
<p>"Well...that is all true. And this land is beautiful. That is why-"</p>
<p>Stiorra cut her off. "-The Danes covet it so very much."</p>
<p>A deep masculine laugh followed Stiorra's proclamation, which caused all three to look for its owner. Tove was the first to spy Rypere sauntering toward them at a leisurely pace. He looked tired, almost as if he hadn't slept since he'd come off shift when the sun rose that morning. Puzzled, Tove furrowed her brow.</p>
<p>"But we know they will never take it," Rypere joked as he knelt down next to them, ruffling Obsert's hair.</p>
<p>"Rypere, shouldn't you be resting?" Tove asked.</p>
<p>Stiorra looked between the two of them thoughtfully but said nothing, suddenly very interested in braiding Tove's hair once more.</p>
<p>Rypere smiled hopefully at her, and Tove felt a strange tug at her heart at the sight of it.</p>
<p>"I'd hoped I could borrow you for a short while? If the Lord and Lady are agreeable?" The latter half of his question was directed at Stiorra and Osbert.</p>
<p>Osbert gave a cry of dismay at the idea of his time with Tove being interrupted. The boy quickly scrambled over to wrap his arms around her neck and snuggle against her chest. Over her shoulder, Tove glanced at Stiorra, who dutifully pretended she was not paying attention until she'd been addressed. At that moment, Tove was unsure of whether she hoped Stiorra too would throw a fit despite knowing the girl was not often prone to them. She and Rypere had not spoken privately since her rejection to join them at the tavern. So it was tricky to say what he might wish to talk with her about.</p>
<p>"It is Osbert's nap time. I'm sure mother won't mind Miss Tove," Stiorra said.</p>
<p>"That's great," Rypere said with a slight exhale of relief.</p>
<p>Tove cleared her throat slightly as Stiorra let go of Tove's hair and held her arms out for her brother. The Dane thought she spied a hidden smile on the girl's lips as she detached her brother. Osbert was sniffling loudly and whining that he was not tired, which of course, did not help his case.</p>
<p>"Tell your mother I won't be gone too long."</p>
<p>Stiorra nodded, taking Osbert's hand and they disappeared into the house shortly, leaving Tove alone with Rypere. His sudden appearance confused her. After that night, the Saxon had kept his distance for the most part, but she hadn't deluded herself into thinking he didn't still watch her from afar. However, with his distance, Tove figured he might have moved on or accepted their friendly acquaintanceship as it was. The way he looked at her now, though, told Tove that was not the case at all.</p>
<p>"Is something wrong, Rypere?" Tove asked. "Did something happen on the night watch?"</p>
<p>His eyebrows shot up briefly, seemingly without his permission, but he recovered himself. "No. No, of course not. I just-" He paused, fiddling with something in his pocket. "Well, I noticed that um, you wear those-" Rypere gestured to the rune hanging about her neck. "And I saw this in the market. I thought you might like it."</p>
<p>Tove said nothing as he hesitantly pulled a small stone from his pocket, extending it tentatively toward her. Momentarily shocked, Tove stared at the rune in bewilderment.</p>
<p>"Do you know what it means?"</p>
<p>Rypere hesitated again, awkwardly still holding the rune out for Tove to take. Suddenly he looked quite concerned.  "No...I don't. It's not bad, is it?"</p>
<p>After a moment of further inspection, Tove chuckled. "No, it is not. Though, I would argue it may do you more good than I."</p>
<p>Mercifully, Tove took the rune from his hand and ran her thumb over the carving.</p>
<p>"What's it mean?" he asked.</p>
<p>"Svefnthorn, sleep thorn," she said; still half smiling. "You put it under your pillow for a restful night's sleep. It appears the merchant who sold you this thought you looked rather tired."</p>
<p>The smile appeared to melt off Rypere's lips at her words. He'd asked for something romantic when he'd gone to the market that morning. And the bastard had given him this? Anger shot through him, but it only showed in the form of a downward turn of his lips. Just as he was considering going back to have a few words with the merchant, Tove interrupted.</p>
<p>"Not that..." She paused, collecting her thoughts before starting again. "Not that I am not grateful for the thought. But why would you buy me this? A gift, I mean."</p>
<p>Tove feared she had sounded rather unkind in her questioning for the few moments that passed following her words, but then Rypere spoke.</p>
<p>"Well, I had thought..." He inhaled sharply as if steeling himself. "With the others away -with him away- that we might get to know each other better?"</p>
<p>She furrowed her brow. "With who away?"</p>
<p>Rypere's slight frown deepened. For a second he doubted, Kenward's assumptions about the nature of her and Finan's relationship, but then his friend's words echoed again in his mind. <em>But has he? It's been weeks.</em></p>
<p>"Finan," Rypere said.</p>
<p>"Finan?" Tove was startled.</p>
<p>Mollified, Rypere murmured, "Well, I had thought..."</p>
<p>She frowned.</p>
<p>"I just mean you're close."</p>
<p>The words caused a hitch in Tove's stomach reminiscent of what she'd felt earlier at the sight of Rypere's hopeful smile. It wasn't him that was causing it, though. Finan, she'd immediately thought of him when she'd seen that smile, but why? And why was Rypere so concerned about her relationship with him. It made her irrationally irritated.</p>
<p>"Yes, we are. And you and I are not." Tove stated flatly.</p>
<p>Rypere opened his mouth as if to speak but quickly shut it. After a few seconds, he attempted again before again sealing his lips but this time in a frown. She felt a pang of regret. It hadn't been her intent to be harsh with him, but the strange feeling in her gut was becoming familiar, and it bothered her. The same feeling she'd had when she realized Finan was not alone in his room the morning of his departure, her subconscious noted.</p>
<p>"I need to go," Tove blurted out.</p>
<p>And she took off before Rypere could even attempt to reply.</p>
<p>The last time she'd sprinted away from a problem like in this manner flashed before Tove's eyes as she ran. With each pounding beat of her feet against the packed Earth, a new image appeared, causing tears to form in her eyes that she struggled to hold back. <br/>
Her father's broken expression -step. Kåre's wail of despair -step. The novel sensation of fat wet tears rolling down her cheeks -step. The odd inability to hear -step. Turning without thought -step. Running toward to beach, desperate to reach what, she didn't know -step. A rush of icy water soaking through her boots -step. Wading into that water chest deep and sliding beneath -step. Screaming beneath the water so no one would hear -step. And the incredible crushing pain of grief, knowing her mother wouldn't be coming home.</p>
<p>Except, now there was no pain. Reaching the Thames banks, Tove finally felt a sense of calm as she came to a halt. The pressing tug somewhere inside coming from her stomach or her heart, she couldn't be sure, was still present. Inhaling deeply, Tove bent down to tug off her boots and roll up her trousers before wading calf-deep into the rushing waters. It was an immediate balm for the tumult of emotions raging inside.<br/>
Irritation at Rypere for being so persistent. Worry for her friends, who she had no way of aiding. Anger at herself for doubting their skills. Guilt for the hope that her countrymen would be swiftly dispatched. Fear that one of her friends might not make it back to Lundene and that fear was tainted by a shame that while she feared for them all, there was one that crossed her mind more than the others -Finan.</p>
<p>That was something Tove kept pushed down only to be thought of in the late hours of the night when sleep alluded her. It was easier to distract herself from it during the day, but Rypere's questions had disturbed the balance. Yet, with the imminent danger they all still face, she couldn't bring herself to properly examine those feelings -not until she knew he was safe. So, Tove allowed herself that moment of peace there on the murky bank, not having realized until then how much she'd needed it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Again, I hope you enjoyed this update. Also, I've been thinking. Would you rather, I write up a few chapters at a time so that they can be posted more regularly? The alternative, is sort of the way I've been doing it which is cranking out several chapters at a time when I have inspiration. Thanks for your input as well as for your readership<br/>Also what did you think of Uhtred and Kåre's brief meeting??</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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